As I led Kyle upstairs, I couldn’t help wondering what the hell I was doing. My sex life had been as dry as the Sahara for the last five years. I’d taken a vow of celibacy that, until now, I’d had no trouble sticking with. After Travis had hit me for the last time, I’d finally found the strength to leave. I hadn’t felt the touch of another man since. But something about Kyle spoke to me. He presented with a happy front, and I’m sure he was happy. Sort of. But I also sensed a deep need for that special connection with somebody. A connection I hadn’t realized I too longed for until I saw the reflection of that need in Kyle’s eyes.

I’d never been reserved in the bedroom. I knew what I wanted and wasn’t shy about not just asking for it, but demanding it. Now, I was hesitant. Unsure. Something I never wanted to be. The only good thing about my relationship with Travis had been that, in the beginning, he’d approved of my boldness. But then, he became insecure. As though me telling him what I liked meant he wasn’t pleasing me enough, which hadn’t been the case at all. He became condescending and began mocking me. It started out small, but gradually escalated until he became so verbally abusive I couldn’t take it.

When I smarted off one night, he slapped me. Our shocked expressions must have matched, and to an outsider they may have seemed comical. Of course, he apologized, and like an idiot, I forgave him. Then, it happened again. And again. Until I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I never told anyone. They probably suspected, but no one ever knew for sure. Not even my best friend.

One day, though, I decided it was for the last time and I left. Of course, not before I pulled a gun on him. When he made a move to take it from me, I pulled back the hammer, and he realized I wasn’t bluffing. I packed up my shit and walked out the door. Thankfully, I never saw him again. But I still kept a loaded firearm near my bed, just in case.

As I recovered from the abuse, my boldness gradually returned. I didn’t take shit from anyone, and I always said what I thought. After what happened to me, I was tired of someone telling me how to live. I had no fucks left to give. I wasn’t mean or hurtful, but I spoke my mind. I was outgoing again. At least outside the bedroom. Once burned, twice shy and all that. I had no desire to place myself in another position of vulnerability. Which was where the celibacy came into play. I hadn’t had any type of intimate relationship since Travis. Five years was a long dry spell. A dry spell I was now in the process of watering, in a manner of speaking.

I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was about Kyle, but I trusted him. Maybe because of how he spoke of his platoon members being killed in action. Or a similar vulnerability I sensed in him when he’d talked about adjusting to not only civilian life, but to life as an amputee. Neither of which I expected was easy. Regardless, a spark had singed my insides, and I wanted to fan the flames. So, for tonight, I planned on being bold, like the old me. Even if I got burned in the process.

The bedroom we entered was decorated like your typical rental property with the cheesy floral slash beachy print bedspread in garish oranges, pinks, and blues splayed out over the queen-sized bed. There was a white wicker chair in the corner with giant complementary throw pillows. We bypassed the suitcase tossed on the floor with clothes spilling out of it. I forced myself not to worry what Kyle was doing as I quickly removed my shirt and pants. When I turned toward him, I kept my eyes pinned to the floor, not feeling quite bold enough to see the expression on his face.

A cough had me quickly glancing up. I saw Kyle’s eyes were widened at the sight of my near nakedness, and a light twinkled in his eyes as they roamed across my body, sending goose bumps up my arms. A boldness I’d forgotten I possessed gave me a knowing smile, and I slowly reached behind me to unfasten my bra. I took my time drawing the straps down, teasing him as, inch by minuscule inch, I moved the article of clothing out of the way to finally expose my breasts to his view. I’d never been well endowed, but I was the perfect handful, in my opinion. From the look in his eyes, Kyle was more than appreciative of what he saw. My breasts ached so much to be touched that I had to restrain myself from reaching up to cup them in my hands.

I kept my eyes on his when, with the same torturous speed, I lowered and stepped out of my underwear. I stood proudly, now completely nude, as his eyes scanned my body from head to toe, and I saw him swallow hard. The growing bulge in his pants was another indication he was enjoying the view.

“You’re a little over-dressed, don’t you think?”

A giggle escaped me when he could only nod. Words seemed to have escaped him at the moment. My words must have triggered Kyle into action, because suddenly his clothes began flying as he practically ripped them off. When he stood fully naked in front of me, I couldn’t help staring in awe at the gorgeous body in front of me. My eyes skimmed over his prosthetic, barely even giving it a glance, because my gaze zoomed in on his erection.

It had been five years since I’d seen a man’s cock, and I didn’t remember Travis’ being this nice. Unconsciously, I licked my lips at the thought of it plunging inside me. My knees grew a little weak at the thought as well. Finally, I was able to pull my eyes away from the glorious appendage and kept a northern track before, at last, we were looking eye to eye. An endearing flush covered his cheeks.

It made me feel a little better knowing he looked as oddly uncomfortable as I felt. Needing to put him at ease, I did something that I could tell he wasn’t expecting. I knelt on the floor in front of him, reaching out for his prosthetic.

“Let me.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and I saw his eyes widen in shock and an uncertain expression crossed his face. It was as though he didn’t know how to react to my offer to remove the mechanical appendage. It made me wonder how long it had been since he’d been intimate as well. It also made me want to punch those stupid women who’d made him feel so self-conscious in the face. It was as though no one had ever offered this service before. My heart hurt for him. He inclined his head and then sat down to observe me. When I struggled a little to figure out the mechanism, he gave me a soft smile.

“Push the button on the side. Under the socket. It’ll slide right off when you press it and pull. Then, just roll down the liner.”

I followed his instructions and easily removed the prosthetic and liner, which I tucked inside the carbon fiber socket when I was done. Not that I even cared about it, but he didn’t give me a chance to catch even a glimpse of his stump before he scooted up to the head of the bed and wiggled around until he’d pulled back the covers, his amputated leg buried under the sheets. He crooked his finger, and as though pulled by an invisible string, I began crawling on all fours across the bed. When I reached him, he pulled me down so our bodies aligned and our lips crashed against each other, both of us voracious in our attempts to taste the other.