Debra doesn't need anyone to tell her that going from one relationship straight into another is never a good idea. Despite knowing this, she finds herself staring at a certain Marine with the body of a demigod and all covered in tattoos.
Retired Ma...
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= Trystan =
Debra sat up on the bed next to me, her brown eyes filled with worry. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I need to..." I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence, because my throat suddenly felt too tight. I swallowed, feeling like I needed a strong drink to get me through this.
I was frozen like a glass figurine on the nightstand in my room at my grandma's house. This was the first time I would ever reveal my disability to a woman I genuinely liked, or any woman as a matter of fact, and my macho as hell mind couldn't handle it. Damn punk.
My physiotherapist had lightly touched on the topic of sex, but had practically said that I would be fine, but honestly, I was afraid of Debra's reaction. Afraid of how she would see me after she saw my mangled leg and the landmine of burnt tissue marring my skin, my legs in particular.
I didn't want to see the pity in her eyes. It would crush me. Her opinion mattered to me, so much so that I was sitting on the bed like a coward, my cock hard and she was already dripping wet and I couldn't move.
I shut my eyes, fighting the feeling of anxiety I felt creeping up on me like the waves of a tsunami. Debra crawled on my lap and lacing her hands around my neck, she kissed my mouth.
"Tell me," she whispered and then she kissed my neck, her tongue running over my tattoos.
I opened my eyes and grabbed her hip, my hand kneading the soft flesh of her bottom. Her tongue was driving me insane. I couldn't think properly, so I eased her away from me despite my entire body protesting.
We had to talk, but I couldn't exactly pinpoint what I was feeling. Was I having a bout of performance anxiety? A lack of body confidence? Like wtf. The timing couldn't be more wrong. I had the most beautiful woman sitting in my lap, her nipples hard, her lips plump, her body a work of art, and I useless in every way.
"Did you change your mind?" She sounded disappointed and that was the last thing I wanted.
"No, baby. Just give me a minute." I rested my forehead on hers and drew air into my lungs.
Fuck. This wasn't supposed to happen. I needed a minute. That's all. In fact, my cock was still hard, so I was definitely still in the game. However, it wouldn't last if I kept this shit up.
I felt her fingers caressing my ears and I focused on that. My breathing was slowly coming back to normal as I tried to match my breathing pattern to hers. She remained calm, patiently waiting on my next move. She didn't complain or nag. She simply waited. She didn't make me feel awkward and I really liked that about her.
When I felt like myself again, I cupped her jaw and pulled her to me. I kissed her softly, barely brushing my lips over hers. Kissing her was always a pleasure. Her lips were soft and slightly swollen from my previous kisses. Her fingers stroked my shoulders and then she ran them through my hair. Lightning streaked through my body and I deepened the kiss, slanting my mouth under hers until she moaned, pressing her breasts into my chest.
