Brenda Tossle lit up a gutter-skinny joint and changed the tune to something a bit more appropriate. “Tonight’s the Night”, by Neil Young began to play as she sat back against the plush bed and pulled her white velvet robe tightly around her. By the time the joint was burned halfway down to her bony finger... she had gained the courage to stand... and even walk to the hotel room mirror. She dropped her robe.
She stared at herself in the mirror; it had been 11 years now since the accident and she still never failed to gasp.
What was left of her body after the crash was that of a brunette beauty, but what was left of her body wasn’t much. The left side of her torso had been almost completely burned away, the skin on her face sealed over her left eyeball, at some parts burned away so deep that her skull was visible. Her left arm ended in a bony appendage past her elbow and her amputated left leg was donned with a ornately carved cherrywood limb. Her genitals, with the exception of a small patch of skin obscured by regrown pubic hair, remained unmarred.
After some time there was a ring at the door. He was here.
There were no words spoken between Willy and Brenda… just soft kissies, pecking in sweet Morris code the true meaning of love.
Willy licked her wounds that night.
One man’s flaws...
Another man’s fetish....
It was Brenda Tossle's first time. Her cherrywood limb lay by the bedside, thrown off in the heat of passion.
~ Ash Lomen