by Kelly Fox
And he’s been staring at me.
Now, I admit, I’m used to the staring. One of the most common questions I get is, “What are you?” This is often asked with the same inflection one might use when confronted with an unfamiliar animal at the zoo.
I mean, it’s like people haven’t ever seen a one-armed, gay Mongolian before.
Anyway, I keep catching Benning’s gaze lingering on my lips as he walks me through several arm and stump strengthening exercises. As he wipes sweat away from his brow, I’m pretty sure he’s wondering what I look like naked.
He’s got such a confident air about him it’s taken me forty-five minutes of sweating through a series of increasingly difficult exercises to realize he’s nervous.
We complete the cooldown, and Elijah grabs Benning to help him with another guy, this one in a chair. I overhear Benning say that he uses a chair frequently, and an image of me kneeling before him flickers through my brain before I have a chance to shut it down. He waves goodbye as I find my way to the locker room, and I decide I am definitely going to get his number before I leave.
I shower and change into street clothes, then totally panic at the thought of asking for Benning’s number. He’s older than me by at least ten years, and I imagine he’d prefer to date someone who has some clue about their next steps in life. But it does look like he wants to chew on my lips. He’s definitely not looking for some jobless guy with three roommates for the long term, but maybe I can be a fling for him?
The thought of having to give him back after a trial period makes me queasy.
Stop being ridiculous and get those digits, Ivan. Pop that amputee sex cherry.
I’ve hit on guys before and once had sex with a guy who was almost thirty.
I can do this.
I can totally do this.
I walk over to the door and open it with confidence, and I see him across the gym, still helping the guy in the chair. He looks up as though his body is attuned to mine, and I turn on my heel and walk right back into the locker room.
There’s no way I can do this.
Panic fully reengaged, I find a bathroom stall to hide in. I pull out my phone and dictate a quick text to Sean.
Ivan: I think my trainer likes me what do I do
Sean: bend him over the nearest surface and go to town on his ass
Ivan: Pepper give Shanna back his phone
Ivan: *Sean
I’m still getting used to dictating things, and honestly, it sucks.
Sean: sorry, Pepper was playing with an app on my phone when your text came in. What’s this about a hot trainer?
Ivan: I didn’t say anything about what he looks like but he’s hot
Ivan: He’s also a triple amputee and I’m intimidated as fuck
Ivan: His muscles have muscles and he’s a blond guy with a sharp jaw
Ivan: Help
Sean: which arm is he missing?
Ivan: pepper, stop stealing Shawn’s phone. This is serious. And the right arm
Ivan: *Sean’s
Sean: oh my gOd, you two together are a matched set. Marry him!
Ivan: pepper!
My phone rings and I angrily hit the Accept button. “Pepper, please let me talk to Sean.”
“This is Sean. Figured you’d rather know who you’re getting your advice from.”
I let out a long breath and lightly bash my forehead against the stall door a few times. “Oh, thank god. That woman is going to drive me to drink.”
“Me too.”
I can’t help but pick up on the soft way he says that.
“So, what do I do? Hype me up here,” I say, chewing on a hang nail.
“According to your text, you do think he’s hot, right?”
“As a ghost pepper.”
“And he’s a triple amputee?” he asks carefully, probably knowing that would have freaked me out preaccident. Now? He’s impressive as fuck.
“Yes. And he just kicked my ass all over the gym floor.”
“Is that gonna bother you?”
“What? That he can kick my ass, or that he’s a triple amputee?” I ask, snorting to myself.
“Either.”
“Then…neither bother me.”
“And you’re sure it’s mutual?”
“Pretty sure. He straight up tractor-beamed me the second I walked up.”
As I say this, a small cough echoes through the mostly empty space.
“You do know this is a public bathroom, and that these flimsy stalls aren’t known for their soundproofing, right?”
Fuck. Me.
“Buddy, what happened? You just went quiet,” Sean asks, puzzled.
I shush him and whisper, “My trainer…”
A booming laugh practically rattles the stall door, followed by, “My friends call me Benning!”
Sean snort-laughs, and in the background, I hear Pepper say, “Oh shit, is that him? Did he just bust you?”
I let out a long sigh. “Totally busted.”
A chuckle filters through the stall area as I continue gently bashing my head against the door.
Benning steps closer and talks to me through the crack between the frame and the door. “Put me on speaker.”
My forehead, still in contact with the stall door, pivots left and right. “I am not putting you on speaker.”
Benning moves in even closer, and I jump when he laugh-yells, “Oh, come on! Put your friend on speaker.”
Fuck me sideways. I hit the button. “Fine. You’re on speaker now.”
“Did I overhear you say your name is Benning?” Sean’s bemused voice filters through the line. It’s nice to hear him smile—something he hasn’t done in a long time.
I open the stall and startle. Benning is on his regular prosthetics, and he’s almost as tall as I am. Also, his hair is loose and falling around his shoulders, and…damn, he cuts an imposing figure with that one good arm of his. I overheard someone call it Vein Porn, and they were right; that thing is a monster—gotta be as thick as my thigh. He bites his lip and looks down, then looks up at me through his lashes, stroking his chin.
Unfair on so many goddamn levels. Even the fucking crinkles around his eyes are sexy.
“Yeah. Stephen Benning. I answer to either, but most people call me Benning.” His voice has a laid-back, chill quality to it that settles in my bones and sends a waterfall of warmth from my ears down my neck and shoulders.
“Okay, Benning, listen here.” Oh shit. Sean’s using his serious voice. “My buddy Ivan just went through a career-ending accident and is trying to put his life back together. He lives with his three best friends, and if you hurt him, you’ll answer to all of us.”
I hear shouts of agreement from Jimmy and Pepper and I can only shake my head as I mouth sorry to Benning. I still haven’t looked him in the eye.
Benning’s smile is bright against his tanned skin. He taps the underside of my chin with a crooked finger and I finally look into his eyes, and…damn. Damn. I’m a decent-looking guy, but I’ve never been visually devoured before, and, uh, yeah. More, please.
“Sean, I have no intention of hurting this man. Far from it. I do intend to ask him over for dinner, though, if that’s all right with you.”
He up-nods me and mouths with those sensual lips of his, Say yes.
Pepper’s voice comes on the line. “Over for dinner? You’re not even going to take our boy to a real restaurant? I’m sure you would agree that Ivan deserves at least a restaurant. With linen tablecloths.”
I bring both of my hands to my face, forgetting as I often do that one of them could very well scratch out my eye if I’m not careful. “Oh my god, y’all are killing me.”
“Nah, man. We’re loving you. Get used to it.” That’s definitely Jimmy.
Benning’s look is so…filthy…that I blush and nod my head, mouthing Yes back to him, practically breathless from the thought of it.
“He absolutely deserves the restaurant experience. But I get the sense he doesn’
t like being gawked at, and the two of us are so pretty, we’d definitely get stares. Besides, I make a mean chicken wing, and I’m guessing he hasn’t yet figured out how to eat those with his new setup.”
“You called it. He’s a mess with finger foods. We practically have to put a bib on him.”
I tap off the speaker phone option and hold it up to my ear. “Thank you for that, Pepper. Much appreciated. Not. And now that y’all have embarrassed me enough, I’d like to end this phone call before you change his mind.”
I flick my eyes up to Benning’s and he shakes his head, mouthing, Not a chance.
“Love you man!”
“Get ’em, tiger!”
“Sorry, bud. You know I have no control over these two.”
I transfer my phone to my prosthetic just so I can rub my head properly. “Yeah, I know, Sean. Thanks.”
I take my time putting away my phone before I glance over in Benning’s direction. He’s laughing silently, smiling into his fist. I run my right hand over my face. My friends are fucking humiliating sometimes.
God, I love them.
“I like them. Everyone deserves friends like that,” he says, cupping my jaw while simultaneously crowding me up against the bathroom wall. “Sorry I wasn’t all that subtle.”
Breathing. Breathing would be good here. “I, uh…I’m okay with overt.”
“Good.”
He runs his thumb over my cheekbone then pulls me in for a kiss. Oh, god damn. Best first kiss, ever. We press up against each other and there’s deep tongue kissing interspersed with necking and just enough biting that when I shift my hips just so I catch my hard dick on his hard dick.
I pull back a little, just to give myself some oxygen. “Well, that escalated quickly.”
His expression is fucking dangerous. “The thing I didn’t tell your friends? I’m hoping breakfast is on the table too.”
I picture being wrapped up in him and shiver involuntarily. “Fair warning, I haven’t had sex since before my accident, and I may be a little rusty.”
His bright smile is smug and really fucking sexy. “Fair warning, I had sex last week. But this kind of sex is not going to be that kind of sex. This isn’t maintenance sex. This is date sex. Wanna make you my boyfriend sex.”
Oh my god, he’s killing me with this. I’ve always thought of myself as too young to settle down, but as of an hour ago my whole view on things has been knocked on its side and kicked over a cliff.
“We literally just met,” I say, gripping his hip with my hand, shifting from side to side, catching my dick on his with each pass.
“That doesn’t sound like a no,” he responds smoothly, kissing my jawline as his powerful arm pulls me closer.
“It, uh…oh, fuck me…it wasn’t. Just wanted to state the obvious. Also…I’m twenty-four.”
He grunts when the shifting dick slide hits the right pace and pressure. “I’m thirty-nine.”
Breathless again, I whisper in his ear, “I’ve only bottomed once, and I kind of hated it. I’m fine with giving it another shot, but I don’t know what I’m doing with anal. Like at all. But I can deep-throat like a champ.”
Benning pulls back a little, looking me in the eye as he lazily moves his hand under my waistband to cup a cheek, and I wonder what his strong fingers would feel like inside of me. He punctuates his answer with a kiss every few words. “I’m pan, verse, and poly-capable. That last one isn’t my first choice, but I’ll support you if you have needs in that area. I enjoy giving oral, but I do have a pretty strong gag reflex. I love topping and bottoming and would love to help you work through any issues with anal you have. And if we figure out that you just plain don’t like any of it, we’ll work around it.”
“That’s…a lot of information.” Kissing while wording is so fucking distracting.
His chin pulls back a little and his eyes search mine. “Did I scare you?”
I smile and lean in for more kisses. “Oddly enough…no. Not at all. Just noting that it is, in fact, a lot of information.”
“Do you do that frequently? State the obvious?” His teasing smile, and the weight of his body and arm around me, feel better than pretty much anything in this world.
“No, but that’s my go to when my brain goes off-line. S’like I’m repeating it just to make sure I got it right.”
He nods, letting his fingers glide up my back and over my buzzed head. When he cups my face, I lean into his hand like a cat or maybe an addict. He swoops in with another sensual kiss, then whispers in my ear, “My brain has been off-line since the moment you walked into the gym. But if we stay pressed up against each other like this, we might end up with public indecency charges. Mind if I take you to my place now?”
I’m still in the catching-my-breath phase of things, so I nod until I can speak. “Mmm, can’t tell if I want to follow you in my car or maul you as you drive.”
He purses his lips, slowly peeling his body from mine. “Better take your own car. I don’t want to get into an accident and end us before we’ve begun.”
“Good. Car.”
Honestly, I’m surprised I got that much out. Benning leans in for one more kiss, which turns into several more until someone else finally comes into the locker room. We rip ourselves away from each other long enough to make it to our vehicles.
4
Benning
Yeah, I’m going to stop trying to make this make sense. I look in my rearview mirror and Ivan is right there behind me. He catches me looking and smiles, and I have to force myself to pay attention lest I drive off the road.
We arrive at my house, which is in an older neighborhood where all the streets are named after colleges. I open the garage and drive in, and Ivan pulls into the driveway, a little fast. I hit the button as soon as he crosses the threshold into my garage, and he surprises me by grabbing me and pushing me against the side of my truck.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy.”
I make a noise of agreement as he attacks my lips. I push my tongue into his mouth, and he groans, rolling his hips against mine. I reach down and stroke him over the fabric, manipulating his dick into a more comfortable position. I stroke up and down through the fabric a few more times, then fit my own hard-on against his. We’re pushing against each other, grunting with an almost primal need to find the friction in each other, to feel the release.
I thumb open the button on his jeans and pull down his zipper, then snake my hand down to his dick. He fits so perfectly in my hand, and the way his foreskin glides up and down over his head feels amazing.
“I don’t…I don’t think I’ve ever been jacked left-handed. Fuck, that’s amazing.”
“Ivan, baby, I want to taste you.”
“Yes. Yes, please taste me.”
Frustrated by all the fabric between us, I awkwardly kneel on my prosthetic knees, appreciating for once that the hard concrete of the garage floor doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I yank down his pants and briefs, and his dick springs up. Fuck if he isn’t beautiful. I gently pull back his foreskin, revealing a gorgeous flared head with a deep slit. My asshole clenches at the sight of it, and I can’t wait to get him in me. I gently mouth him, and his hand immediately goes to my hair, grasping it as I continue a soft, lingering exploration of him.
I spit into my hand and fist his shaft while I continue to suck and lick his cock, moving my mouth up and down in a coordinated stroke with my fist.
I hear a thumping metallic scrape as his prosthetic hits my truck. “Shit, sorry!” He pulls away, looking at the small scratch in the paint.
I yank on his arm to get his attention. “I don’t give a shit. It’s just a truck. Come back here.”
He gives his prosthetic a frustrated once-over. “Fuck, I just wanna take this off. Is that okay?”
I shrug. “Sure. Mind if I keep at it?”
He shudders as I tongue his slit. “I don’t know how coordinated I’ll be, but fuck yeah.”
I grin and keep going, grip-twist-suck-stroki
ng, making it very hard for him to concentrate. I smile around his cock as he struggles to release his arm, and after a few seconds, I get beaned on the head. He pulls away, finally separating himself from his arm. “Shit. Sorry again.”
I laugh, and his stressed brow relaxes. “Hey, as long as I don’t lose consciousness, I’m good.”
With his silicone sleeve still on, there’s enough of a stump and grippy-ness for him to lean against the truck and use it as a counterpoint. Score.
I’m on my knees staring at him again, and damn, he’s beautiful. He looks down at me, then looks at his cock and raises his eyebrows, smiling.
“Want something, darling?”
“Yeah, for you to finish the job,” he says, popping the head of his dick against my lips like some kind of porn star. I love the lack of seriousness between us. I had worried that wanting to take off his prosthetic might’ve popped our happy little sex bubble, but he got back into it so quickly that I think he’s just rolling with reality.
Our reality.
Fuck. I thought the sexy times would recalibrate my inner compass back to man-whore so that I could stop contemplating whether he’d be opposed to matching tattooed bands.
Anyway, I intend to show him how much fun accepting his new reality can really be, so I grin and get back to work. Within seconds my mind is back in it, and the slide of his cock in and out of my mouth and hand…all of it is intoxicating. He smells like the soap they have at the gym, and it’s a combination of familiar and comforting and so fucking sexy.
I tighten my squeeze on his shaft. Tightening and twisting as I suck and flick my tongue against his sensitive head. I don’t want to freak him out by juggling his balls with a metallic hand, so I angle my arm down, letting my forearm brush against his nuts on the down stroke.
He makes a humming sound as I work him over with my mouth and hand, his knees going wobbly. The humming pitches up then falls apart on a shout, and suddenly my mouth is filled with warm cum. I pull off and let go of his dick to push down my shorts, freeing my trapped and angry cock. I dribble out a bit of his cum onto my dick and jerk myself hard a couple of times, coming as I swallow the rest of it. I come so hard that I have to lean against my truck, leaving my own scratch in the paint.