DON'T HURT YOURSELF
Life goes on.
How often have we heard that phrase, either with hope or with resignation? Life goes on. Even after one life ends, others go on. Like mine. I saw Joe and Frankie die. One second they were there with smiles on their faces. The next, they were gone. I made it back, though my leg didn’t come home with me from Iraq.
Life goes on. Mine did, yet I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be quite the same again. Long out of those desert camos, I only had two friends, Carl and my gym. Carl’s the only homeboy who didn’t treat me like I was damaged goods. The gym was keeping me from becoming just that—damaged goods.
I scratched the stump before putting on the prosthetic leg. I was actually walking a hell of a lot better than I would have predicted before therapy. My gym workouts kept all the remaining parts of me except one in tip-top shape. The one being neglected couldn’t be rehabilitated at the gym.
I had some music by Marillion on my iPod, listening to one of my favorites.
There's an old man on a warm and
No job, no money, just a smile to call his own
Know what he says? "The past will only haunt you.
Live for today. Each day's an open door.”
“Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore"
How this song became my anthem is beyond me, but that’s what I was doing; trying to look at every day as that proverbial open door.
I popped over to Carl’s place. I really had no other place to go. He got me a beer, but the usual joviality wasn’t quite there. He was on edge. I figured he’d get whatever it was off his chest eventually.
“Ah…Rich…I…ah…was wondering something.”
I never saw him that nervous. “Okay, spit it out. Whatever it is you can tell me. We’re like brothers, for God’s sake.”
“You know Crystal, right?”
“What, you two breaking up already?”
“No, nothing like that. She’s…ah…she told me…she wants something, like different.”
“Okay, that’s cool,” I said. “I bet she already knows who the other girl will be. Anybody I know?”
“That’s not it, man. She wants to have another guy in bed with us.”
“Well, that IS a bit different. You gonna do it? Might still be cool, I mean, Crystal’s a hot chick and she might explode. Be cool to watch, I think,” I said, making light of something that obviously was bringing him a lot of anxiety. When he gave me a stricken look, I asked, “You’re not worried about…er…performing are you?”
“No, that’s not it. Oh hell, I don’t know. Maybe it’s jealousy. Maybe it’s just that I don’t know if I want her to pick the guy out, you know what I mean?”
“I can see that.”
“What about you?” he asked. That floored me. He continued, seeing I wasn’t about to answer him, “I’m okay with you buddy, and besides, you haven’t been laid in eons.”
“Not me. Like I said, Crystal’s a hot chick, but I don’t want to mess with you man, and besides…”
“C’mon, fuck the leg, man. Sooner or later you gotta let a woman see that thing. This is your best bud talking here. If I’m gonna do a threesome, I want the other guy to be you.”
Maybe it was the right thing to do. I was tired of jerking off, wondering if I could get the same result with a woman; wondering how a woman would react to my leg. Crystal really was a hot number, and she knows me, at least. And if any man was to share that with me, it would have to be Carl. No one else.
“You could say no,” I said.
“No fucking way, man. When she wants something, she won’t stop until she gets it, with or without me. I’d rather have what she wants ‘with’ me.”
I left the subject at “I’ll think about it.”
After a week of boners and wet dreams (Jesus Christ, I hadn’t had one of those since I was a teenager!) I told Carl I’d do it if Crystal was okay with me as the final player in her fantasy.
Carl set it up for the following Saturday night. In keeping with my sudden return to teenage angst, I took two showers and fussed with putting on my leg more than usual. While in the shower, I was as hard as a rock, but resisted the urge to jerk off. I didn’t want to be the one with performance anxiety.
Crystal looked way beyond sexy when I got to Carl’s apartment. Her light welcoming kiss lingered a bit longer than usual, and her eyes told me everything I needed to know. She was beyond ready for this—for me. I smelled the booze on her breath.
“Oh Richie, I was hoping it would be you,” she whispered.
Carl said, a bit too loudly, “Hey bud, doesn’t she look hotter than hell?”
That’s when I realized Carl had been drinking too, and was pretty smashed. I had second thoughts but it was too late to turn back now. I looked at Crystal and said, “Yes, bud, she looks good enough to eat.”
Carl laughed. Crystal’s expression conveyed an entirely different emotion. I felt awkward, so if anything were going to happen, I wanted Carl and Crystal to start. I surely didn’t want to be the first one undressed, especially with my leg. I got a beer and relaxed. Crystal figured it out, and began working on Carl, slowly getting him out of his clothes as I watched. She snuck a peek at me and smiled coyly before going down on him. Carl’s buzz didn’t interfere with his ability to become erect. She looked like she knew what she was doing, taking him pretty deep into her mouth, and watching her got ME erect.
Carl moans grew louder and more immediate. As if in response to his vocal feedback, her head bobbed faster until he grunted, signaling his ejaculation. Crystal took it all, deep in her throat, noticeable swallowing without a single gag. She popped him from her mouth and turned to me with a new smile as well as dribbled semen on her lips.
With languor permeating his voice, Carl said, “Baby, you’re the best.”
Crystal turned to me and said, “What do you think?”
“I think he liked it,” I answered, “but I can’t attest to ‘the best’ status.”
“Well, I’d like to prove it to you, Richie.”
I hated being called Richie, and I think she figured it out by the expression on my face. I glanced at Carl, but he’d dozed off. He was smiling. I said, “I was told you wanted a threesome. If it’s true, it looks like one of the three is unavailable.”
“Don’t worry about him, the night is young.”
“No, Crystal. I can’t do this. Not now. It’s not right; not fair to Carl.”
She came and sat on my lap. “It’s just sex, Rich. Have you had any since…you came back?” Our faces were so close. I looked into her gorgeous eyes and admitted that I hadn’t. “You can…can’t you?” she asked, and I told her it wasn’t anything mechanical. “Are you…afraid?”
I admitted that I might have been a little afraid. “Nobody except doctors have seen my…my…my leg,” I told her. “Maybe I’m not ready yet.”
“I want you, Rich, leg or no leg.” Then she kissed me.
This was something else I missed yet was so afraid of—this kind of intimacy. For a second I flashed back to how she looked a few moments ago with Carl’s semen on her lips. I flinched at the thought, though I believe she mistook it for general nervousness.
She slowly pulled her lips from mine, and said, “It’s okay, Rich. I do want you. I need you.” She didn’t allow me to say anything, her lips and tongue returning to mine.
Regardless of the genesis of her need, I felt the heat radiating from her in waves. It truly had been eons since I’d been laid, and I was certainly ‘up’ for it now. She got off me and did a slow strip-tease. When her bra fell away, I looked upon the most beautiful tits I think I ever saw. Crystal’s were large but not pendulously so; with a slight upsweep to them, and a tight jiggle which telegraphed their firmness to me. They were real, and I wanted to touch them. She seductively lowered her thong, and I gasped at the sight of her freshly shaved mons. Perhaps that was another sign of my sheltered sexual existence since coming home, for I fully expected to see at least a landing strip, not the bald, little-girl look before me.
Now naked, she smiled at me and I nearly came in my pants. “Now it’s your turn,” she said, as she knelt in front of me and began to remove my jeans.
I was so fucking nervous when she got to removing the pant leg over my prosthesis. Her only apparent reaction was a slight lingering, like she was studying it. Nothing embarrassing. What was more distracting was the fact she didn’t immediately react to, or go for my cock, since I felt as if I’d never been harder than I was then.
When she finally did, she whispered, “You’re not gonna last long, are you?” Not waiting for an answer, probably knowing it already, she wrapped her luscious lips around my shaft and went to work. She was right. I couldn’t hold it, unleashing stream after stream into her smiling mouth.
She eventually said, “Yummmm…as you can see, I’m a swallower.” Indeed she was, taking all the pent-up cum I gave her, and it had been quite a load.
I got the rest of the way naked and we moved to the bedroom. She was cool with my prosthetic leg, not shying away from it as I expected her to do, nor did she seem obsessed by it. Lying together, she asked me the typical questions. I normally don’t talk about the bomb that killed my buddies and took my leg. Well-meaning people tell me I was the lucky one, yet I never felt lucky. For a long while I couldn’t sleep. The nightmares were balanced by thoughts that I would have been better off if I’d died instead of my friends. Like I said, I usually don’t talk about it, but with Crystal laying next to me, looking into my eyes and pressing those nice tits into me, I told her.
“Oh, Rich, I know there isn’t a ‘right’ thing to say so I won’t try. I’m so sorry to hear what you went through, and I’m glad you have a friend like Carl.”
“Do you think he’ll wake up before I do, so you can have that threesome you want?”
“By ‘wake up’ do you mean the bad boy here?” she said while palming my flaccid cock. However, it wasn’t flaccid for long. “I think he’s waking up now.” She didn’t mean Carl.
I whispered to her, “I’m gonna have to take this off, you know. It’ll get in the way.”
“Would you mind if I did it?” She hesitated, “Unless that would bother you…”
A big part of me, and I didn’t mean the part that was getting stiff fast, still couldn’t believe what was happening. I never imagined someone else doing this most intimate of tasks—removing my new leg—yet here I was. “Yes…it’s okay…can you figure it out?”
“We’ll soon find out,” she said before beginning the task.
I had more of a problem with it than she did.
She treated my artificial leg with reverence, like a holy relic perhaps, as she took it from the bed and placed it on a nearby dresser. Like a sledgehammer blow, it hit me again watching her climb back into bed next to me, how perfect her body was. Carl was a lucky dog, and I was about to be blessed with a bit of his luck.
Crystal asked more questions while she absently played with my stiff cock. “Does it, like, itch or something?” was one of them. She didn’t mean my cock.
“Yes, it itches a lot, and I have the phantom sensations below, where my leg used to be.”
“It hurts to talk about it, doesn’t it? I’m sorry for asking all these questions. It’s selfish of me.”
I said, “Yeah, it’s hard, but I don’t mind your questions. You’re being so sweet about it, so I’d rather answer your questions than have you pretend nothing happened to me like most people do. It hasn’t been easy coming home only part a man.”
“Rich, oh Rich, don’t say that! You’re not ‘part’ of a man. I think you’re special; more of a man than most. Why do you think I asked for this?”
“I wondered that.”
“Don’t. Just hush up and do it.”
I nestled between her thighs and tasted the sweetness I missed for way too long. Her clit throbbed at my tongue, and soon the wetness of her arousal became nectar for my taste buds. She moaned throughout, and I knew it was real. She unrolled a condom onto me and begged me to fuck her. My cock was ready.
It was awkward at first. In all my therapy I never wondered how I’d manage sex (walking was hard enough) so when I tried missionary with Crystal, I couldn’t quite make it work. “It’s okay, let me do it,” she whispered as she slid out from under me and pushed me onto my back. I was superbly mounted.
She slid down onto my achingly rigid shaft with a smile and a wink. Her early motion was a slow rise, fall and rock. I reached up and cupped her magnificent tits, enjoying their natural firmness and feeling her nipples stiffen at my touch. Rise, fall, and rock. Her well-lubricated vagina was like the proverbial velvet glove, though a nice and tight one. She got into it, incrementally picking up her pace, and I was glad she sucked me off earlier or I would’ve already shot my load.
I let go of her tits as her bounce grew more intense. The matching bounce of her tits hypnotized me. I felt my impending orgasm build.
She arched her back and neck and with one final push, drove onto me as far as she could. “Ohhhhhhhh, Goddddddddddd!” she bellowed as I felt her vagina clench at the same time I saw her body twitch all over.
My cum answered hers.
She collapsed next to me and asked, “Did you like that?”
I chuckled and then said, “Here I am, a fucked-up vet with one leg, not having had sex in ages, and this gorgeous girl fucks me and asks if I liked it?”
“Wow! I’m not sure which one I should react to more? You really think I’m gorgeous? …And you really think you’re fucked-up?”
“Okay, okay, so maybe I used to think I was fucked up but not anymore. And yes, you’re gorgeous and I still can’t believe I’m in bed with you.”
“Ooooooooo, you’re sooooooo sweet!” she crooned before kissing me.
Before I knew what was happening, she was rubbing up against the stump of my leg, her hips gyrating faster and faster as she ground into me. I thought that if it would’ve fit, she may have really fucked what was left of my leg.
“Holy shit! Humping the stump!” Carl was standing in the doorway, naked and with a bemused expression on his face. “You two having fun without me?”
Apparently, Crystal was oblivious to his presence, for she kept humping the stump, as Carl so aptly called it, until she groaned, signaling her climax. Not knowing what to say, I motioned for Carl to join us on the bed. This was supposed to be a threesome, right? For a few more seconds, he watched his girlfriend settle down from her humping orgasm before he climbed onto the king bed and lay next to Crystal, opposite me. Crystal, becoming aware that Carl had joined us, kissed him and apologized for starting without him.
Carl said, “My, my, looks like lots of cum in that condom.”
Crystal answered before I could, “You jealous?” Then she did the unexpected, turning to me and kissing me passionately. This wasn’t a peck but a wet, full-tonguer. Whether sincere or just a ploy to get Carl going, the kiss got ME going.
I couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but evidently Carl had spooned against Crystal’s ass and entered her from behind. She flinched but kept kissing me. I felt Carl’s rhythm through each quiver of Crystal’s body. As the interval between quivers grew shorter and the quivers became quakes, Crystal pulled her lips from mine. She whispered something but I couldn’t make it out, though I imagined it had something to do with her impending orgasm. I rubbed her taut nipples for a few seconds until her eyes rolled back and her mouth opened. Carl’s groan was unmistakable for what it was, though Crystal’s climax went by silently, though not unnoticed. Time slowed as I watched every facial nuance as she came. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
Carl was unusually chatty afterwards, so I knew he was jealous of me being there. Crystal didn’t help matters much when she got me hard and urged me to do her the same way that Carl had just done. The roles were reversed. She kissed Carl while I fucked her from behind, managing this position nicely. Because I was afraid of cumming too early, I went slowly, much slower than Carl had. Crystal’s reaction to my rhythm was amazing, as if we were two musicians playing a duet in perfect harmony. Her ass flew back to meet each of my thrusts, and her breathing turned to throaty rasps, so much so I didn’t have to see it to know she wasn’t kissing Carl anymore.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Goddddddddddddddd, Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” she bellowed this time.
I came very soon afterwards, filling another condom.
After that, she lay on her back as Carl and I caressed every inch of her. She purred like a pampered kitten. I tried to get a sense of Carl’s state of mind, but his face didn’t reveal a clue. On the other hand, the way Crystal looked at me spoke volumes, and I knew I had to be careful from here on out.
We’d been in bed for hours, and sooner or later her threesome experiment had to end. Over my protestations, Crystal insisted on helping me put my leg back on. Before I left, she gave me one last kiss before whispering in my ear so Carl wouldn’t hear it, “Next time we’ll do it missionary. I’ll help you.”
I looked into her eyes, wondering if her intent was as obvious as her words. Damn if I wasn’t hooked on my best friend’s girl!
I almost didn’t want to see Carl right away after our threesome, since I felt guilty of my feelings for Crystal and anyway not knowing how he’d react to the whole surreal thing. When I couldn’t avoid him any longer without making the reason blatantly obvious, he surprised me by being jovial, going to great lengths explaining how much Crystal loved it, without a hint of jealousy. Genuine or not I couldn’t tell.
I asked, “So, when are we doing it again?” I was kidding, of course, but he didn’t think so, his joviality disappearing. Busted!
How would he feel if he found out Crystal called me later that same day?
“Hi Rich. I just wanted to let you know how much I liked it…you know…”
“That’s okay, Crys, I loved it. You made me feel great, being so understanding about my leg and all. You’re the hottest…Carl’s lucky.”
“Thanks. Well, that’s why I…er…called, like, I want to see you again…,” she paused, “without Carl.”
“As much as I’d love it, Crys, that’s not fair to Carl. He is my friend, you know.”
“He doesn’t have to know about it. It just felt so right to hook up with you.”
Did she guess how I felt about her? I wanted her so badly I succumbed. “Ah, okay, do you know where I live?”
She did. We set up a date.
When she came over, it was like living electricity had entered my apartment. She crackled with excitement; and whether I needed it or not, her excitement flickered into me. She started pulling off her clothes right away, but I stopped her and asked her to do it slowly. She gave me the best stripper show this side of a pole, making me wish I had one beside the one in my pants. After I was undressed, as with the first time she insisted on removing my prosthesis. It will probably always make me nervous having someone else touch it but I let her, and she exhibited the reverence same as before. On my bed, she ran her tongue all over my one-and-a-half legs, before stopping to spend some time licking and kissing my stump.
“Not there,” I murmured. “Higher.”
She smiled and then moved up and swallowed my cock whole. She turned her body around into a sixty-nine position, and her pussy tasted like the sweetest cuisine. She must have known I was going to cum, for she pulled away and flopped onto her back, saying, “Missionary, remember?”
She helped me with the condom and then helped me crawl between her legs. I’ll tell you, crawling wasn’t, nor would it ever again be a specialty of mine. Like I confessed the first time, I didn’t know how it would work without putting my full weight on her, and I didn’t want to do that. Being the smart and sexy (and horny) girl she was, she worked out a tilting of her hips and legs to accommodate what in effect was my tilted lower body. She deftly used one leg to bolster my missing one, and then guided me into her.
She smiled luminously up at me and said, “See, I told you we could do it.”
I began my first slide into and out of her, saying, “You practiced this…didn’t you?”
“What do you think? Ohhhhh, you feel good!”
SHE felt good. Her vagina was tight and yet slippery enough to make every sensation a special one. She urged me on, her eyes leaving mine, rolling upward to look at the ceiling. I took that as a good sign (I was still as self-conscious of my sexual performance as I was with my leg). Her positioning made it work. I thrust into her with all the reckless energy my self-forced celibacy provided. She moved with me, bucking her hips in rhythm with mine.
Her back arched and she moaned my name.
And that was only the first time that night. After we talked for a while, she coaxed me back to stiffness by pushing her pussy into my face. Yep, that would do it every time! I licked her sweet pussy until she said she couldn’t take anymore. We didn’t have another condom, so she surprised me by whispering in my ear, “It’s okay, I’ll take you bareback.”
I wasn’t about to question her. I hated those things even while understanding the need, so I was more than willing to bareback her. Oh God, if I thought it felt good before, now…
I can’t say we did it in any one position. We started out with her on top, but quickly progressed to every pretzel positioning we could get into. All the while my cock was ensconced in the velvety goodness of her well-lubricated vagina. Her high level of arousal and her gleeful embracing of the sex act were unlike that of any girl I’d been with before or during my service in Iraq. I slept with one of the married gal soldiers stationed with me before I lost my leg. She was certainly a sexual dynamo, yet her enthusiasm was clearly from the illicit nature of our coupling—so far from home, in a war zone, and away from her husband—and not necessarily because she was with me. Crystal was different. Her arousal seemed to be about ME, and I was reveling in it.
“I’m gonna cum,” I moaned.
She must have sensed a hesitation, for she said, “Inside me, baby…it’s okay,” and pulled me in as deep as I could go.
For that short time, I forgot I hadn’t come back from Iraq whole.
Crystal spent the night in my bed. In the morning, I awoke to discover her hand on my stump and my cock bone hard. She purred, “Good morning, sleepy head. I’m glad you don’t snore like Carl does.”
“I can’t corroborate that,” I said before chuckling.
“Well, I can corroborate something,” she said, palming my stiff morning dick. “You’re about to get lucky.”
She mounted me cowgirl, and true to that name, rode me wildly like I was a rodeo bronco. She whooped and yelled and exploded in a wet, ferocious climax. She luxuriated in the orgasm for a while, still rocking on me; then she climbed off, slipped my aching cock—glistening in the morning light from her pussy juices—between her smiling lips, and sucked me dry, swallowing every last drop.
I was in love.
Before showering and dressing she told me how special I was and how much fun she’d had. We both went off to work, but not before I asked to see her again.
With a kiss and an enigmatic smile, she said, “We’ll see.”
I imagined that Crystal would leave Carl and be my girlfriend. I kept running scenarios through my head on how Carl would take it and whether he would still be my friend. Crystal and I hooked up whenever we could, but the leaving-Carl part wasn’t happening.
One day I bought her a rather expensive necklace. She wore it (with nothing else) as we made love. All I had to do was see her smile and those tits of hers, and I was instantly hard and ready to go. As Carl so indelicately called it, ‘Hump the Stump’ became a regular activity when she was in my bed. Rubbing against it was her foreplay. I was amazed at how wet she got while doing it, but what was equally amazing was my acceptance of the whole thing; not being self-conscious at all about her intimacy with my sad deformation. Maybe I was coming around after all, and I had Crystal to thank.
Beyond my leg and whatever attraction it held for her, I sensed that she actually liked me and really enjoyed our sex. The problem for me going forward was how to reconcile a relationship with Crystal with my friendship with Carl.
When I saw Carl again I hoped I didn’t have a guilty look on my face. We did the usual catching up, talking about work, sports, and all the stuff guys always talk about. When he asked me if I had a new girlfriend I nearly choked. I tried to regain some composure before asking in return, “No, why do you ask?”
“The other night in bed Crystal told me she wanted another threesome, or like maybe a foursome. I was thinking if you had a girlfriend that would be a cool foursome.”
“Did she ask for me in this threesome?”
“Not specifically, dude.” He paused, smiled, and said, “Whoa, you want another whack at her don’t ya? Man, she is a firecracker when she gets going, isn’t she? I never had a girl who loves to fuck as much as she does.”
I didn’t know how to respond. Was I that naïve, that stupid to think she was now exclusively sleeping with me? And besides, she asked him for another threesome but didn’t mention my name. What’s up with that? I had to at least show interest. “I’m in, if she wants me.”
“Sure thing, Rich. We’ll see.”
When Carl called me and invited me over, I imagined it would be like last time. I sure was wrong.
Besides Crystal, another girl was in Carl’s apartment when I got there. She was introduced as Sherri, “a friend.” Now, I’d shown up anticipating sex, but Sherri’s presence had me wondering. Obviously, both girls had been drinking and they were acting a little silly. I wasn’t sure about the ‘friend’ part, since Crystal and Sherri were touching and clinging to each other in ways that eclipsed mere friendship.
When I saw Sherri’s hand slip under the waistband of Crystal’s jeans, Carl turned to me and asked, “Buddy, have you ever seen two girls get it on? No? Well you’re gonna have a treat watching these two.”
“This,” I said, pointing to the girls who were by then shedding their clothes, “has happened before?”
“What do you think, man? It’s like regular entertainment. Crystal can’t get enough, animal or vegetable,” he said then laughed.
I had to admit that watching them get it on sure was arousing. Crystal was clearly the babe of the two, but Sherri looked like a tongue pro, as she went down on Crystal and within a minute or two had her howling. When Sherri said to Crystal, “You taste so good when you cum,” and then turned to Carl and asked, “Don’t you agree?” I was as hard as the proverbial rock.
I was also jealous. I’d begun to think of Crystal as mine, and now here she was screwing around with another girl, no less.
“Instead of sitting there with hard-ons, why don’t you get out of your clothes and join us,” Crystal said. Sherri then said, “Yeah, Rich, c’mon I wanna see it.” She meant my leg; the one only partly still there. The one I don’t let people see. The one I only let Crystal touch.
Carl was quick to get naked and join them. He turned to me when he saw I wasn’t following suit and said, “C’mon buddy, get in here. These girls are too hot for me to take care of all on my own.”
Crystal chimed in, “Yeah, Rich. Take that thing off and let me have a piece of you.”
What a pathetic situation. I was pathetic. “A piece of” me she wanted, yet “a piece” was gone forever. I wanted to leave. Remembering all my thoughts of Crystal being special—about her being my girlfriend—were stupid in the extreme. I was the freak she could brag about sleeping with; my stump a dildo.
God bless her, for Sherri must have understood my expression, my pain, for she got off the bed and came to me. “I’ll help you, Rich. You’re a nice guy, I can tell. It’s real shitty what happened to you…over there, but don’t let it get in the way of having a little fun. What do you say?”
Sherri didn’t have the body that Crystal had but she was no slouch either. Her breasts were smaller but pointier, and her nipples were dark and quite pronounced. I wondered what it would be like to suck on them, and I got hard again. Sherri pulled my jeans down and helped me out of them. She lingered at my prosthetic leg.
“Do you…should we…like, take it off now, or wait until we’re in bed?”
I was momentarily distracted, as she was, by Carl’s grunting as he fucked Crystal in the missionary position. I sat on the edge of the bouncing bed and removed my prosthetic leg. Sherri watched with keen interest. I wasn’t sure why I had to remove it, but memories of how Crystal had “used” my leg stump came to mind and I guessed why Sherri wanted it off.
She too was a good cock-sucker. I warned her that if she continued I’d cum, so she suggested we too went missionary. I struggled with it, and she didn’t have the imagination to help me as Crystal had. I wished I’d left my leg on. Sherri grew impatient with me. I think she wanted to outdo Carl and Crystal, who were eagerly humping away next to us.
“How about you on top,” I suggested, and she complied. Watching her bounce, riding my cock like she was, proved more enjoyable than the feel of her vagina. Sherri was clearly trying to “out-sex” the other two, making loud grunts and groans and exaggerating her approach to orgasm. The entertainment value was better than the sex. No pun intended, but I went along for the ride.
Sherri’s screams were amazing. If I’d actually had anything to do with them I would’ve been proud. I hadn’t even had a chance to cum. Carl and Crystal actually stopped to look.
Crystal pushed Carl off of her and moved up on the bed toward Sherri. They kissed, with Sherri still impaled on my cock. I was still stiff and throbbing but not sure if relief was coming. When Crystal separated her lips from Sherri’s, she whispered something in Sherri’s ear. When Sherri got off me and began humping my leg stump, I knew what had been whispered. I wasn’t pleased.
“Oh Rich, oh…” she kept repeating as she used my truncated leg as her dildo. Having no idea if Carl or Crystal had cum or not, I watched Crystal creep toward me.
“Baby’s being neglected,” Crystal cooed, before she started sucking on my cock. Her skill could not be denied. We came together; what I mean was that Sherri orgasmed at the same time Crystal began swallowing everything I unloaded down her throat. Carl cheered us on.
Evidently Carl hadn’t got off yet (he was hard and stroking himself, waiting), for Sherri and Crystal went back to him and left me to be the spectator. Crystal sat on his cock while Sherri sat on his face, the girls facing each other and kissing. This must have been another of Crystal’s threesome fantasies considering how quickly they got into this position. Carl’s orgasmic grunts were barely stifled by Sherri’s pussy. Crystal moaned very loudly as her climax hit. I couldn’t tell if Sherri came or not.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed and starting to put my leg back on when Crystal came over next to me and said, “Richie, are you leaving us already? We’re just getting started.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need me…seems like you’ve got your threesome. Have fun.”
She said, “But we need you,” then began touching my stump.
I turned to face her. “Do you need me, or this?” I asked, pointing to my truncated leg, allowing my anger to creep in. “I thought you liked me for who I was, not some freak with a part missing.”
“Rich, come on! Like you? We just had some fun, that’s all. It’s not like romance or anything. Snap out of it.”
I turned to Sherri. “And what did you want?”
“I dunno. Crys said you were cool and that I should like, check you out.”
“You mean check THIS out. The gimp, right? ‘Hump the Stump,’ isn’t that what you called it Carl?”
Carl said, “Cool it, Rich. The girls just wanted some fun. It’s just sex, that’s all.”
“Hey, I’ve got an idea. Try this out Sherri,” I said. As she reclined on the bed with her legs slightly apart, I took my prosthetic leg, which I hadn’t fastened to me yet, and stuck it against her pussy, rubbing it into her. She didn’t even flinch. Instead she began writhing her hips to assist me with my rubbing. I was disgusted with her and with myself. She rolled her eyes back, seemingly enjoying the thing, but when I pushed a bit harder she yelped.
“Hey, that hurt!”
Carl said, “What’s up with you, man?”
I spoke to Sherri, but realistically I was saying it to all three, “You wanna know what hurt is really like? Why don’t you stand next to a roadside bomb and have your life changed forever? Why not watch your buddies blown up into unrecognizable pieces? Why not come back home with your leg gone, and have people look at you like you’re not a whole man? Why not have people see you as a freak, toying with your emotions like everything’s fun and games?”
At least my soliloquy shut them up. The sad part was that I could see Crystal didn’t get it. To her it was, as Carl said a moment ago, “…just sex.”
Sherri actually giggled when I walked out after putting my leg back on and dressing.
For the first time since right after I came back from Iraq, I thought of suicide. The bright side of things was that I knew I had to see my shrink right away. I hadn’t seen Dr. Modelle in a while, but her office quickly set up an appointment for the next day.
I have to tell you, Susan Modelle was a MILF. Once before, during my therapy, I admitted to my attraction for her. Instead of some therapeutic aloofness, she smiled and said she appreciated my attraction and took it as a compliment, and told me she thought it was refreshing that I could be candid about my feelings with her like that.
I said, “Doctor, you are the most beautiful and intelligent woman I know. You don’t look at me like I’m a freak or damaged goods. You seem to like me…” She appeared as if she was going to say something but I stopped her, “…and since you always tell me that talk is good therapy, I’m gonna keep talking. I don’t think I have one of those doctor-patient crushes on you. I guess what I’m saying is I hope someday I’ll find a woman like you who will accept me for who I am, leg or no leg.
She got up from her chair, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and said, “Richard, what I think is that you don’t need to see me anymore. I think you’ll be okay, but if you ever start feeling deficient again—the ‘I’m not a whole man’ crap—then don’t hesitate to call me, okay?” At her office door, she kissed me again on the cheek and said, “I do like you, Richard.”
When I walked into her office, the memory of that chaste kiss held me fast. She greeted me warmly, though I knew she was worried about me. Dr. Susan had picked up some lines around the eyes since the last time I saw her, and I noticed right away she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. Interesting, but not germane to the issue at hand: me.
I openly explained the threesomes and how Crystal had used me like she had. Susan stopped me once to ask, in her own subtle way, what had bothered me more, Crystal’s fetish for my leg or my misinterpretation of her motives?
“You nailed it. I think what bothers me the most is how stupid or naïve I was in thinking that she actually cared about me.”
“But you haven’t really answered my question, or maybe I didn’t ask it clearly enough.” That’s part of how I felt about her. She never got on a high horse. “Let’s look at it a different way. How did your misinterpretation bother you?”
“You’re a shrewd one, Doc.” She smiled. “I know what you’re getting at. No, I think I looked at it like if she was going to have sex with me and not Carl, that I meant something more than a fetish. Isn’t that a normal thing to believe?”
“Sounds like it to me. You sure you weren’t questioning why she wanted you?”
It was my turn to smile. “Hell no! She’s a babe, and I take care of myself. Honestly, at first I didn’t think about the leg except the logistics of how to do it with my prosthesis off.”
I noticed a slight change in her expression, like the therapist façade slipped for a moment.
“You want to tell me about the threesome? How it went. How you felt.”
I wasn’t sure why she wanted to know, but without getting all lurid, I told her the basic details. The façade slipped again. She was aroused, and I thought about the ‘missing’ wedding band. When I finished, I said jokingly, “I don’t know how you do it, but you always make me feel like you cured me by the time our sessions are over.”
“Are you…cured, that is? Did you purge the demons a silly girl brought back into your world?”
“Doc, you are the chief purger here. You always have been for me.” Our time was up. I told her I was going to the gym to work out the physical kinks since she worked out the psychic ones.
“Where do you go?” she asked. “I need a new gym, since…” She left it hanging.
She didn’t have another appointment after me, so I invited her to tag along and I’d show her the gym I used. She pulled a gym bag from behind her desk and off we went.
She said she liked what she saw, and immediately joined. When she changed into her exercise clothes, I whistled my approval. She chuckled and seemed to like the flattery. I thought about the irony that this was the first time, after talking about it so much, that she actually saw my artificial leg. She wasn’t afraid to speak about it either.
“You get around pretty good with that thing. Is that a custom unit or are they akin to off-the-shelf?”
“Doctor, you truly are amazing. Even my best friend’s afraid to ask me questions like that. It’s not really custom in that sense, but it was made for me.” I told her how I wanted to get a running leg, the kind with the spring instead of a ‘foot.’ She truly seemed interested.
We worked out for a while, and a couple of times I caught her looking at me. I was still puzzled by the absence of a ring. Was she available, and in her own way telling me so? I pushed the thought out of my mind, since it was unethical for someone like her to be involved with a patient.
After showering and dressing, she said to me, “Do you still feel cured?”
“Well, I don’t know about ‘cured’ but I’m feeling damned good.”
“Then let me propose something. As of this moment you’re no longer my patient.” She took my arm and walked me to the door. “Let’s go get some dinner. My treat.”
“Oh no. If anything it’ll be Dutch.”
I took her to my favorite Italian place. The pasta flew and the Chianti flowed. I didn’t know it then but that’s when I fell in love. The woman I held in such high regard was available after all. After dinner we went to my apartment. Dr. Susan was even more ravishing naked.
I asked her if she wanted me to take my prosthesis off, and she said, “Why, do you want it off?”
“That’s a therapist’s question, and you’re not my doctor anymore.”
“Does that mean you won’t answer me?”
I laughed, “Okay, I’ll answer. I want it on because it’s a part of me now.”
I kissed her beautiful, full breasts and moved slowly downward until I was satisfying another hunger. When she graced me with a small gush of moisture, I moved back up and gazed into her eyes. She whispered, “If I ever hear shit like you’re not ‘whole,’ or something’s missing, I’ll kill you. You’re the most whole man I’ve ever known.”
I put a finger at her lips and said, “Is that how a doctor should talk?”
“How about this? Shut up and fuck me!”
I was about to ask her about positions, but then I thought, This is the woman who helped me overcome my depression. How can I be insecure with her? I took charge.
Susan was more natural in the pubic area than most girls I knew nowadays. It wasn’t a bush; she was nicely trimmed though more than a landing strip remained. For some reason as I did cunnilingus, I thought how perfect that was. This was Susan—‘natural’ in every way. I spent as long as it took dining between her fleshy labia. Her clit played hard-to-get at first but whether through my modest skill or maybe just time, it popped up and proved to be a lively little unit, twitching away in parry with my tongue tip.
She moaned “Richard,” then nothing more as her body shivered in climax. All the loud orgasmic screaming in the world wouldn’t have sounded better to me than the syllables of my whispered name.
Her next whisper was, “Whichever way you want…whatever makes you comfortable.”
Comfort had nothing to do with it, but maybe stubborn pride did. I wanted to prove to her more than anyone that I wasn’t a cripple, so I got between her legs and entered her missionary. I was a long way from mastering the position with my prosthesis and she knew it.
She pulled herself up and kissed me before saying, “You don’t have to prove anything to me, of all people.”
We got onto our sides, and with me spooning behind her, I entered her again. She was so heavenly lubricated that it felt like her vagina was lined with the finest silk. I kept a slow and steady pace, not wanting to cum too soon. I loosely held her ass as I thrust. She purred like a cat, which I thought was extremely sexy. At a certain moment as I approached my climax, she turned her head back to me and smiled the most golden of smiles.
“I’m there, Rich, I’m in Heaven,” she said with a moan as her eyes rolled back a bit and her body convulsed. Once more I thought what an amazing woman. I gave her two more deep thrusts, relishing the feel of her pulsing vagina walls, and unloaded what felt like gallons. I made much more noise than she did.
While we held each other in post-coital delight on the bed, she told me about her failed marriage. It seems that her husband wasn’t as successful in his career as she was in hers, and that ate at him until he wanted out. “I never bragged, never lorded over him. We shared our incomes without any distinction of where the money came from. He thinks I ‘hurt’ him but he hurt me so much more.”
I played the attentive therapist for a change and remained silent.
She told me more about him but then looked me in the eye and said, “I know better than anyone to be careful of rebound actions. I feel in my heart that being with you right now isn’t a rebound, but we’ll have to take things slowly. After all you’ve been through, the last thing I want to do is hurt you. Do you understand?”
I told her I did. Then we kissed. Then we fucked. This time she pushed me to my back and climbed on top. She may not have the body of a teen any longer, but her curves were all in the right places. I grabbed onto two of those nice curves, her fantastic, full breasts, and held on as she rode me to orgasm. When she came she wasn’t any louder than before, just a sound not unlike a hum, but her body told me all I needed to know about her pleasure.
“I’ll be as patient as you want me to be, but let me tell you, Doc, you’re so above anyone I’ve ever known that I would never abandon you.”
She kissed me before saying, “You’re so sweet for not adding ‘like he did.’ I meant what I said, Rich. You’re the one that’s so above any man I’ve known. Let’s see if we can make this work.”
I thought of the irony of the situation. I’d seen her for therapy, feeling lost and depressed, and now she was looking at me as her anchor. A glass-half-empty person could think that we were two damaged people grasping onto each other in utter dependency. I was now a glass-half-full man, feeling as if my glass had just overflowed.
Love has a strange healing power all its own, doesn’t it?
The Marillion song was in my head again:
…Put it away this anger and
The open road is infinitely hopeful
Take all those memories and throw them in the fire
And don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself
Don't hurt yourself anymore.
The road ahead WAS infinitely hopeful. Yes, a piece of my body was left behind, and yes, I lost some good friends over there, but I was done hurting myself. Whether Dr. Susan and I had a future or not didn’t matter, though I hoped with all my heart we did. What mattered was that I felt whole again.
I almost didn’t write this one. After all, what right did I have to speak for a wounded Iraq vet, being a woman ‘safe’ in suburbia? All I can say is I hope I treated him fairly.
Consider this tale as a salute to all who serve us so bravely and well.
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