Prosthetic Love

I saw her. She was the only girl I thought was hot. Sure, she had nice eyes, but it was the way she walked that caught my eyes. Her hips bounced from side to side. I complimented her hips one day at school and asked her out. After she was done freaking out, and I served my referrals for sexual harassment, she accepted my date.

I spent one night with her at Cancun, when she still had both her legs.

A hideous alligator incident ended that vacation early.

Long story short, she's now into disabled guys. But I wasn't willing to chop off a part of my body to have her.

My kleptomaniac side urged me to have her…or at least a piece of her.

I saw her in the mall one day, walking like she was the "queen of the mountain" with her fine ass in the air. Her prosthetic beauty captivated me.

And so I ran, eventually tackling her unconscious.

"Woops. Are you okay?"

No response was made. No one was looking though. Her prosthetic leg was in my hand.

So I walked away with it, casually. And with new pride, I was glad to say that I had no regrets at all.