I had found my wife's stash of pictures, mostly women missing one or both legs, a few men at the bottom of the pile. I resisted letting her know, instead I spent time searching the net to learn about her fascination. There are hundreds of fictional stories about people wanting to be with amputees, but I stumble upon a few where some actually want a limb amputated. At first I panic, is this what she might want? The characters are, in general, happier afterwards. Is that just fiction? I give myself time to reason both the interest in amputees and the desire to be one. Each day I grow more comfortable with the ideas.
Weeks later, at the mall, I lean on a railing and watch a woman with one leg walking with crutches. She is older, but pleasant looking. Her dress nicely shows off her figure and ends just above the one knee with no hint of how much of the other thigh remains. At first, she seems alone, but soon an older man joins her. From the way they interact, I assume they are together. Maybe he is a stranger and just approached her because of the missing leg. Regardless, they walk away together.
"Did you see that?" I ask Rose.
"What, darling?" Her hand covers mine still resting on the railing.
I take a long moment and look at her anew, picturing her to be like the woman or some in the pictures. She is my height, tall, and slender with curves in the right places. I have loved her for the last five years, but never known the new side of her that I am starting to meet. If she were missing a leg, would I feel the same about her? I guess that is the question of the moment.
I point down the aisle, a few stores. "The woman with one leg. That man just joined her."
She looks and finds the couple, then watches intently until they vanish into the crowd. "Yes," she simply says.
"I don't know if they were together until now."
"Wonder what he saw in her?"
I realize an excellent opportunity has just opened for me. "I've read that some find amputees as interesting as others like blondes or redheads."
"Hmmm." She watches the crowd where the couple had gone, probably hoping woman will return. "Would you still love me if I became like her?"
I am silent as my lips cover hers for a kiss. "Uh-huh-h," I drawl, nodding my head a few times.
"Really? David, I didn't know that about you."
"Maybe the stark contrast between one long beautiful leg and a short stump would be a turn-on for me."
"My, oh my. So, which of my long beautiful legs should I sacrifice?"
"Do you have a preference?"
"Maybe." She snickers then tilts her head. "She's coming this way."
We both watch her graceful walk, the left leg swinging between the crutches with each step. She is alone now. There is no way to miss our stares. She stops in front of us.
"Hello," she says, mostly to Rose. "Couldn't help but notice your 'interest'."
"Sorry. That was rude of us. I'm Rose, this is David."
"Lori. I've been this way long enough to know the different reactions." She chuckles. "Maybe I've misread yours."
"And what do you think mine is?"
"Not disgust or idle curiosity."
"No?"
"No, maybe you are wondering what it would be like. Some grow up wanting to be this way, you know."
"And if you are right?"
"First, am I?" She smiles at me then her, and then back. "How would you feel is she was?"
"I wouldn't mind."
"Do you secretly desire her that way?"
"Wait," Rose says. "I'm puzzled."
"I know. We didn't start this right. If you'd both like to talk with me, here's my card. I'd be happy to answer all your questions. I'd like that."
We watch her walk away then stare at each other not knowing what to say.
"Whoa," Rose finally whispers, a hand patting her chest several times.
"Yeah, there's your chance to be like her."
She holds my hand, standing close, her lips inches from mine. "Darling...."
"It's okay if that's the way you feel."
"How...how do you...know?"
"I found some pictures, then I did some reading on the net."
"Oh-h. Sorry. I never meant...."
I peck a kiss. "Listen, I love you. Regardless."
The drive home is quiet other than idle chat about some towels and sheets we both liked at one store. I assume her thoughts are like mine, what would it be like to be missing a leg. How would it change our lives if she were?
I lean against the counter as she pulls two beers from the refrigerator. Her hips press nicely against the khaki slacks while she bends over. Even standing, they outline her in a pleasing manner.
"Which leg?" I ask, taking the bottle from her.
"Oh, god," she sighs.
"We don't have to talk about it. I just want you to know I'm here for you if you do."
She clinks the bottles together then takes a big swing, letting it wash down her throat as she leans against the counter next to me with one ankle crossed over the other.
"Left."
"For how long?"
"Forever."
We sip a few times, just glancing at each other some, mostly looking down at the floor.
"All of it?"
She nods. "Or nearly so." She sips a few more times. "Would you hate me?"
I pull her against me. Our sides touch, and my arm around her shoulder. "No way."
She still looks down. "People would talk. We probably would lose friends."
"They wouldn't have to know 'why'."
"Lori was right, most people wouldn't want to be around us, around me."
"From what I read, this is such a big part of you it wouldn't matter. If I didn't want this, you'd probably leave me."
"Yup...all consuming. Lately, it is becoming very intense. I thought I had it under control after we met and got married."
"What triggered the feelings to come back?"