Sneak Peek | Excerpt | Work in Progress

Impaired Libido

Sex after an accident — an excerpt

This excerpt is the first chapter of a novella (still work-in-progress) about a couple who, after a car accident which left them damaged, try to find new ways for their sex life to be as exciting as it was before.

She used to be quite acrobatic. Her hypermobility allowed her to get into positions that are impossible for most. Once she’d browsed through a Kamasutra do-it-yourself-book. Amused and aroused by what she saw in the pictures, she’d tried out a few of them with her then-boyfriend William. Especially ‘The Wheelbarrow’ had been great fun. She’d walked through the house on her hands as William had held her at her hips and fucked her doggy style. In the end, they’d burst out laughing and collapsed on the floor. She remembered fondly how the ‘Lotus Flower’ had been intense and satisfying. It was the position in which she’d tried anal penetration for the first time. But all these sexcapades were in the past. Ever since the accident, a lot of postures were bad for her shoulder and neck. The scar tissue of her sinews would flare-up with a burning pain whenever she wasn’t careful. Missionary and Cowgirl were her preferred positions now. They didn’t strain any of her damaged muscles.

‘I don’t know, Sam,’ Chrissy said, out of breath. She’d been riding him Reverse Cowgirl. Nothing wrong with her hips and abs. And this way she could lean with her hands on his legs. Sam had smacked her ass while she was grinding him. She never used to be particularly fond of spanking, but now she enjoyed the titillating sting on her flesh. No doubt it had to do with Sam’s impairment. Spanking her with the hand that was spared after his amputation had changed her perception of being slapped. His ability to make himself known to her physically in a position where she couldn’t see him was important and arousing. No doubt, his firm cock inside her was another important physical demonstration of his very able existence.

‘It’s our anniversary, Chrissy,’ Sam said. ‘Why don’t we just try to, if it doesn’t work out for you, that’s alright.’

The first time they’d made love was ten years ago. Sam drunkenly fell out of bed while they were messing around. Chrissy laughed at him while dangling with her head over the edge of the mattress. Upside down he looked even more silly and she mocked him for being such an idiot. But of course, his Ricky Gervais-like shenanigans had drawn her to him in the first place. He picked himself up from the floor, and their jocular mood changed instantly as she stared at his erect penis bobbing over her head. She beckoned him with her mouth wide open, and he carefully explored her ability to take him in. He cried out in amazement when he saw the shape of his tip going down her throat. Later, he told her it had reminded him of a snake swallowing its prey.

‘I’m surprised it didn’t make you flaccid then,’ she said teasingly.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ he said. ‘It felt incredible.’

After the accident, they hadn’t been able to continue with this kind of playfulness. Sex, in general, had been something they had to learn all over again. After losing his left arm, Sam became depressed and impotent. He cried so much that Chrissy seriously considered leaving him in his puddle of tears and move on. But every second that he wasn’t just a terrible mess, she saw the amazing man she’d fallen in love with. She knew guilt consumed him— he was the one who’d lost control of their car. He considered the loss of his arm a deserving punishment. But the lingering pain of her own injuries and the almost constant rehashing of the crash in her dreams had exhausted her and frozen her patience to zero Kelvin.

One evening — they’d been screaming at each other for twenty minutes — she’d sarcastically advised him to take the consequences as a man and shut the fuck up about it. She’d imagined him to accept defeat and thus wave the white flag that would give her the excuse to walk away. He was stunned, yes, but ultimately, he looked at her in silence with a clear sense of acknowledgement. He smiled wryly, walked up to her and embraced her. Chrissy wanted to resist his arms encompassing her, but to feel his body against hers remained irresistible. It broke her. It was her turn to become a puddle of tears. He comforted her like he’d done so many times before the accident. It was this familiarity with how things had been and, most importantly, still being there, that had convinced her that only Sam was able to give her the solace she longed for. Or maybe he was her solace.

From that moment on, they revisited each other’s bodies. Sam kissed her scars like a pilgrim would a relic. Chrissy’s marred skin turned out to be less numb than she thought it to be. Nerves still send pleasant signals to her brain and in return, her damaged body was told to enjoy itself. Chrissy explored Sam’s body anew and tried to fill the emptiness of his absent arm with the love and the lust she’d always felt for him. Soon enough, his libido returned.

‘It’s our anniversary, Chrissy,’ Sam said. ‘Why don’t we just try to if it doesn’t work out for you, that’s alright.’

Chrissy thought about why she felt resistance to go along with Sam’s wish to slide down her throat. Remembering that first passionate night, savouring the memory of his cock gliding into her mouth, she realised that revisiting it would be tempting but fruitless in the end. And not only because of the potential physical harm to her neck.

‘I don’t want to spoil anything, but…’ she said wavering and paused.

Sam sensed her solemnity, and his attention changed. Their mutual arousal shifted to a contemplative mood and the sex odour that had hung in the air evaporated like a morning mist hit by sun rays. Sam repositioned himself to show Chrissy he was prepared to listen to her.

‘We’re on a different path now, love,’ she said. ‘We’ve only just begun, really. I don’t want to go back to before. We can do without the stuff we did. I’d rather find out about what we can do now.’

Sam nodded and looked down. He knew she was right. He wanted something back that had long since slipped between the cracks of time.

‘We should’ve taken pictures,’ he said and winked.

‘Like a selfie album of our sexcapades to flick through on long winter nights?’

They laughed.

Chrissy thought back to how she’d once balanced herself on Sam’s feet. After an early morning romp, she’d come out of the shower to find Sam lying on his back with his legs up. It was a yoga position he enjoyed doing. She got on the bed and let herself ease against his legs by leaning backwards. He placed his feet under her buttocks, just below her hips and lifted her. They’d never done this before, but it seemed logical to do. She ended up balancing on his feet with her legs and arms hanging loosely in the air. Arched backwards, she could look him in the eye and kiss him. She was naked and still wet from the shower. Her boobs hung, but her nipples were erect. Droplets slid off her onto Sam’s face. He held his tongue out to catch them. With her pussy stretched open, she floated mid-air like a half-moon. The slight draft in their bedroom tickled her vulva. They didn’t speak. Their eyes locked. They remained like this in silence. It was meditation mixed with arousal. After a few minutes, Chrissy felt that Sam’s legs started trembling under her weight. She lowered herself onto her hands. Her legs turned full circle, and she ended up spreading wide over Sam’s face. He grabbed her buttocks and pulled her down till her pussy was pressed against his mouth. The contrast of the chill air and his hot lips and tongue made her shiver with pleasure. She stretched out over his trained upper body and took his half-erect cock in her hand. She jerked, licked, and sucked it with eager morning energy. They had never come in the 69-position, but that morning they did. Chrissy sensed how close Sam was when his cock twitched inside her mouth, his shaft pumped up for the release. She pressed her lips around the crown and flicked the tip of her tongue against the sensitive spot just below it. His body was shaking and the sexual power that this gave her urged her own climax on. Sam, with his mouth pressed against her labia, sucked on her clit. His hands firmly spread her bum cheeks, his fingers near the rims of both her holes. When his cum shot out of his cock into her mouth, Chrissy climaxed soon after. She gasped, and Sam’s semen glided over her lips and chin. She cuddled his cock against her face as Sam lapped at her dripping pussy.

Chrissy had never wondered about why or how acrobatics had become part of their sex life. They’d never talked about it either. It just happened and over the years it had become a kind of signature of their physical togetherness. As if just sex hadn’t been enough. Their love had to be augmented with another corporeal act. Maybe this was why they felt something was lacking now. The sex they had after the accident was fine, but it wasn’t the same.

‘Did you ever wonder about why we did all those stunts?’ Chrissy asked.

‘Not really,’ Sam said.

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Kind of.’ He looked away from her and mindlessly scratched his stump. She knew he missed it a lot.

‘You know when you smack my bum like you have been doing lately?’ she asked carefully. For some reason, she was shy about introducing something new to him.

‘Yeah?’

‘I like it.’

‘Oh?’ He looked at her inquisitively.

‘Don’t be offended but I think it’s because of…’ She paused. Waited for his response.

‘Say it. It’s better,’ he said.

Embarrassed, she nodded and pushed herself to utter the words. ‘Because you have only one arm now.’

‘And one hand,’ Sam added.

Chrissy smiled at him. She wanted to kiss him, but she wasn’t sure if Sam would consider it an annoying gesture of pity.

‘So, what are you telling me?’ he asked.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I think that maybe there is stuff to explore. Maybe we handicapped acrobats can change profession.’

Sam laughed.

‘I mean, half the time that we have sex, I’m afraid to hurt myself,’ Chrissy continued. ‘I can sort of cope with my body being fucked up but I don’t want to go back to the pain I suffered before.’

‘How is me smacking your bum going to make that better?’ Sam seemed baffled.

‘Not so much that, but doing something else. Maybe use toys. Trying things out.’ Chrissy knew she was treading on a path that Sam found difficult to follow. He had said a few months earlier that everything that meant abandoning the idea of his arm still existing was hard to deal with. She thought that what she was suggesting now could be something like that to him. Moreover, Sam had never been the person who would think too much about his actions beforehand. He was impulsive, non intellectual. He reminded Chrissy of Jackson Pollock paintings. She knew that talking about sex toys, for example, and planning what and where to buy, would not be his thing.

‘Toys would make it worse,’ he said.

‘Worse, how?’ she asked.

‘Like a wheelchair. A prosthesis.’ He looked at her with such despair that she left it. She kissed him and told him it was fine.

They showered and had breakfast. To celebrate their ten-year-anniversary they would meet at their favourite restaurant that evening. Chrissy went to the city council where she worked, and Sam walked to his studio. At least he still painted. More than anything, his art had given him a reason to deal with the consuming guilt he dragged with him.

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