Finding your Feet

 

"Oh my god Arnold!" Helga gasped as she lay below him "Yes, fuck me, please, ohmygod!" Her breasts, slick with sweat, bounced as he pounded into her, her eyes gazed into his, her hands grasped at his back. "Fuck, yes, yes, YES!"

Arnold groaned, came, his hips jerked, he swore. He opened his eyes. The digital clock next to his bed declared brightly that it was 04:13am. He sighed, kicked his covers back with his good leg and sat up. Leaning over, he groped at the floor till he found a discarded T shirt. After using it to clean himself off, he lobbed it into the corner and lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

It had been three days since he had told Helga he couldn't go home with her, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. Was he just kicking himself for giving up probably the only chance at sex he'd ever get? Or was it more than that? Did he actually like her?

It was hard to know… he was so fucking messed up, he had no idea how to figure out what he was feeling. Except that he was lonely… that bit he knew. Lonely and ashamed of himself. Not the greatest combination.

So now he was just reduced to a pathetic, lonely man. Jerking off in the middle of the night over fantasies of what might have been.What's worse… in those fantasies, he had both his legs.

Gerald hadn't been much help… he just couldn't understand why Arnold had said no. How could he explain? Sure, Helga was pretty, sweet, funny, smart… but he was a cripple. He couldn't bear to see her face if she touched his… stump. He didn't want her to be revolted by him. He wanted to lie with her, kiss her, touch her… but he didn't want to be touched, he didn't want her to see him.

How the hell was he even supposed to deal with the leg? He couldn't just whip it off all nonchalant. He couldn't make her do it! And, if they did end up having sex… how was he even supposed to do it? It's not like he could be on top…

Even more basically than that… putting the damn thing on was a pain. What if he needed to piss in the middle of the night? At home, he just used his crutches, but it's not like he could just sneak off at her place. He'd have to turn a light on, wake her. The whole ordeal would just be humiliating.

Maybe once he could walk by himself better. When he didn't have to spend every waking moment scanning for hazards. When he could have both his hands free when he wanted to kiss a girl goodnight.

Maybe then.