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I feel the thousand-yard stares of hundreds of people as I sit alone at a table. Maybe because I'm waiting for my date to meet me at this rather quaint steakhouse. Maybe because it's unusual for anyone to be eating alone here. Maybe because you don't normally see a completely limbless woman in her wheelchair and a nice blue summer dress alone every day. I turn on my phone sitting on a clip near my face to see if she sent any new messages. The screen flashes to life and I see that there's one new message from her.

Sara

I've just arrived.

I take a sip out of my wine glass through a straw in hopes the alcohol might calm some of my nerves. The warmth flowing through my cheeks does help, but who knows if I'm going to regret drinking at all later down the line. I scan across the restaurant to see if you're finally inside, searching for where I'm sitting. And it isn't long before our eyes finally lock. You quickly begin to make your way over to where I'm currently seated at a lone, small table in the middle of the dining area.

You pull out a chair beside me and sit down. "Hey Amber, you look amazing." I take a quick glance at your attire. You're wearing a beautiful white sundress, it's sleeveless shoulders and short skirt giving an easy look to the hooks you're wearing on your arms and below knee prosthetic legs you have, just like I asked you to. I didn't really want my caregiver with us to be a third wheel, so it's nice to have a date who's able to feed me.

"Thanks, same to you, Sara," I say. You notice the menus sitting on the table alongside the glass of red liquid with a straw on the table. "I already ordered myself something to drink while I was waiting for you."

"That's okay, I guess I have some catching up to do." You slip your right hook through the cover of the menu and flip it open. "My god, this is SO much easier than with those stupid hands. Thanks for the suggestion to wear these."

"No problem." I let out a small smile as some red appears on my cheeks, not easily visible through the blush I'm wearing though.

"Honestly, I'm never sure whether people are going to freak out when I wear my hooks."

"Well, if they do, they can deal with it. And if they can't, fuck them." We both let out a laugh at the rather crude comment.

"God, dating with a disability sucks."

"God, tell me about it. You either get someone super awkward about it, or a total creep who's obsessed with it," I nervously chuckle out, feeling some relief as you nod in agreement.

"Straight-up," you say as you brush your hook against my shoulder. I shudder a bit at the flirtatious touch of the cold steel. It reminds me of times long since passed, times I prefer not to think about. Times that have made me so closed off and rather aloof.

"I've been having a lot of those sort of dates, lately. At least girls tend to be less of the creepy type, but I've had so many first dates go nowhere," you comment. Your eyes catch a waitress, and you wave a hook to flag her down and order a strawberry margarita for yourself.

"Same. The last guy I went out with was a total creep. He couldn't stop salivating and staring at my stumps. I felt so uncomfortable, I called my caregiver and walked out without taking a bite."

"That sucks sweetie, so awkward." I feel a knot starting to build in my stomach as the word 'sweetie' runs through my head. "Especially when you have to wait to get picked up, you can't even make an exit as dramatic as you hope." You bring a hook up towards my cheek, my shoulder twitches as you push the lock of hair back above my face. "Don't worry, I won't stare at anything besides your boobs," you whisper, giggling as you glance down to the rather impressive rack hanging over my seatbelt.

"Any ideas on what to eat?" I ask.

"I'm not sure. I don't want to deal with something ultra-complicated, at least for myself, so I might just get some chicken fingers. You order anything you want though, tonight. With these things, I can cut steak and everything." You raise the shiny pieces of fresh molded steel with a smile on your face.

"Well then I think I know what I want." I see the waiter come back to the table, now even more stunned than he was when first came by to take my drink order. Must be a once in a blue moon occasion to see two disabled woman at a single table.

"Uh," he says with a lack of composure. "Are you ladies ready to order?"

"Yes, I'll take some chicken fingers with fries," you say, handing the menu over, using your body to rotate and tilt your hooks into the right position.

"I'll take a filet mignon, medium rare with broccoli." You raise an eyebrow towards me as you process what I just said, the waiter walking to queue the order into the POS.

"You're paying tonight, right?" you say laughing. I let out a nervous chuckle, a rush of blood coming to my cheeks as I swallow another sip of wine from my straw. As I watch you have the same reaction with your margarita, I feel some thoughts run through my head. I wonder if I'm really having a good time. Am I loosening up to you? Do I like you right now as more than just a friend?

I shake those thoughts aside as you bring your margarita towards me. "Here try mine, it's really god." I take a sip as you slowly lift the hook holding the stem of the glass higher. I feel the sweetness of strawberries with the overpowering staunch of tequila hit my tongue as a short lock of my gelled auburn hair falls in front of my eye. You brush it back with your hook, and I can see the nervous look you have on your face as you do.

"Sorry, I know I should ask permission to touch you." I look into your hazel eyes and long brown hair.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind a little bit of help. Shit, your margarita is strong though."

"I told you I have to play catch up. I can't let you have all the fun." You slide your chair a little closer to me, and the knot in my stomach grows a hair tighter. "Besides, I'm happy to help you. That first date was so awkward with your caregiver sitting on the other side, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." I let out another nervous chuckle. "It's nice for it to be just the two of us. I don't always need her by me."

"Definitely. Have you thought about what we talked about last time? Maybe having your van drop you off at my place for," you pause. "Coffee or something? My whole apartment complex is fully accessible. It doesn't have to be tonight if you don't want, but I'd love for us to have some alone time."

I sit and think about what you just said. I know I feel rather comfortable around you, but at the same time my introvert self is calling me telling me to go home. I really don't know how to respond and if I'm truly comfortable enough to spend time with you alone. After what seems like an eternity in thought, I finally let out my response.

"I'd like that, and we can chill some tonight, maybe watch some TV. It sounds like fun."

I see a smile grow on your cheeks and the waiter approaching our table with our food order.

"Here's your order for you all. I'll be back with refills and the check."

The waiter sets out the plate with my filet mignon and broccoli down in front of me, and a fork and steak knife beside you before giving you your plate of chicken tenders. As he walks away, you deftly put the fork into your hook, clamping down the steel tubing on steel silverware. You do the same with the steak knife, cutting my filet into bite size pieces. It takes a few minutes before the steak is fully diced into pieces.

"I said I could do it, but I didn't say it was fast."

You spear one onto the fork, twisting your hook to slide a bite into my mouth. I chew the piece of steak, taking in the details. Properly cooked, juicy, tender, well-seasoned. I feel only bliss as the steak melts in my mouth. I smile a bit as you grab a bite of your chicken fingers.

"This is so good, Amber. I love this place." I watch as you practically bounce in your seat, so jubilant with excitement. "How am I doing? Not bad for only two years since the accident, right?"

"No, you're doing a great job, Sara. Better than I ever did when my parents wanted me to try prosthetics."

We both break out in laughter at my snide comment, although the alcohol has probably amplified the humor of it.

"Sorry you had to deal with that," you say as you continue to shovel me steak bites, making some slow but notable progress on your finger food.

"It's all good. That was all when I was like, four. My parents gave up on that real quick, but it's not like it stopped any resentment towards them." I feel the knot in my stomach grow a bit tighter as the snarky cynic within me begins to show itself. I recoil a bit as you open your mouth, ready for you to say that you're ready to go home. Ready to ghost me. Ready to go back to my little shell inside of me and lay around the apartment.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure eventually they figured out that for a girl like you, all that you'll ever need is your mouth." You slip a piece of broccoli into my mouth as a pull it off the fork with my teeth.

I feel the knot loosen a bit and a smile grow on my cheeks as you bring napkin to my lips, wiping a loose strand of the soft vegetable that stuck to my mouth. "Thanks Sara. You know, you're probably the sweetest person I've ever met." I get distracted as I see the waiter come back towards our table, check in hand to set it on the table.

"Seriously? You're too sweet. I'm glad I found you browsing Tinder." I look down as my eyes open like a deer in headlights.

"Fuck, I really shouldn't have ordered the steak, should I?"

We both let out a chuckle.

"Oh well, I guess that's an extra shift for me to work next week. Besides, you paid for dinner last time anyways." We laugh as you root through your purse for your wallet, running a hook through your hair. I shoot a text to my driver, and he replies that he'll be out front in a couple of minutes. I can see you enjoy me using my pretty face to use my phone, my body stretching against the seatbelt to keep me from tumbling out of wheelchair to lay helplessly on the floor.

"Alright, he's on his way."

"Great! I took an Uber here, but I guess I could bum a ride and give him directions to my apartment."

"Yeah, that'll work." I feel so much heat exuding from my body, as I can tell the alcohol has taken an effect on my small body. You fumble with the pen to sign the check before walking me outside with a hook draped over my wheelchair as I guide it with my shoulder. As we head outside, I watch as you stumble a bit, slightly relived knowing I'm not the only one who's been hit by the alcohol. We head out the door to the handicapped van and the driver, who helps load me in through the back and get me situated. You wait patiently as I'm loaded in before you hop into the passenger's seat, taking a few tries to buckle yourself in. As the van begins to pull out, you give directions and make small talk as I try to prepare myself for whatever may come my way.

You try and make some small talk as the driver makes his way through the nighttime traffic. I respond with a fake sense of jubilance, but I'm deep in thought. I truly can't believe that any of this is happening. That knot in my stomach hasn't really gone away, no matter how drunk I've gotten. Is this really what love feels like? Like some growing knot in the stomach as you try to open yourself to having some fun, but never really feeling comfortable or open enough to let loose? For the first time, I truly can't process all the emotions running through my head. I know I'm having fun, but should I keep going? Should I crawl back into my little solitary shell, or should I just let myself go, leaving this constant edge behind me?

After about ten minutes, we pull up to your apartment. The driver begins to unhook me from the restraints keeping my wheelchair in the van as you step out of the passenger seat. You walk towards me, digging through your purse for your keys as I come down the ramp for the wheelchair. I wave goodnight to my driver and tell him to come back in the morning. He's a bit hesitant, much like me, but I tell him everything will be fine. He hops back in and drives off to a destination unknown to me or Sara.

I guess there's no turning back now.

I wait for you to unlock the door, rolling forward along the concrete pathway to your apartment. You open the door to reveal a dark room, flicking on the lights to a rather spacious apartment. Or at least spacious enough that it can handle my electric wheelchair. I can tell that it's a single-story apartment, and kitchen near the living room. Within the living room, there's a large TV on a glass table with a coffee table and a couch nearby. I roll up to the couch as you set down your purse on the coffee table.

"Do you have something to drink?" I ask, as you unbuckle the seatbelt of my wheelchair. "I'm not sure if the wine was enough if I'm being honest."

"You read my mind, Amber. Are you able to transfer by yourself do you need some help?"

"I should be fine. Thanks, Sara." I waddle slowly on my hips to the edge of my wheelchair before letting myself fall face first onto the couch. I then roll myself back up, looking right at your face as you sit me up beside the couch, putting your hooks around my waist.

"See? I'm not completely useless."

"I sure do. Let me see what I have in the fridge." You give me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen. I feel a heat grow within and rise to my cheeks as the skin tingles from where you kissed me. I truly don't know how to feel about it. Should I really have let that happen, or should I have listened to the voice in my head telling me to go home? I know it felt nice and that it brought a little heat to my groin area. But am I comfortable? Am I truly happy to be with you?

You drop a comment, and it snaps me out of my trance of thoughts. "I've got some wine coolers in here and some beer."

"I'll take a wine cooler, please."

I watch you grab two coolers and a straw and make your way over to the couch. You struggle to pull the tab on both cans with your hooks, but with some work the cans are opened. You put a straw into one can and hold it up to my lips. I take a sip, feeling the intoxicating effect of the sweet, syrupy beverage.

"Let's get this out of the way really quick," you say, fiddling with the joystick of my wheelchair to guide it behind the couch. When you come back to the couch, you hit the TV remote and put on a movie, some dumb Rob Schneider flick. We comment on the stupidity of it as we both continue to make progress with our drinks, growing more intoxicated. You start to move closer to me, running your hooks across my body.

I really don't know whether the alcohol is having an effect or not, but the knot has finally started to loosen a bit. I slowly feel more comfortable as you run your hooks across my body, my skin forming goosebumps from the contact of the cold steel. You lean forward as we embrace for a kiss, my heart rate accelerating as our mouths mingle. I feel a fire continue to grow within my stomach and groin. After what feels like an eternity, you break the kiss, both of us panting hard.

"I'll think you'll be more comfortable without your prosthetics on," I say, wanting to see your beautiful body. I look down to the black, carbon-fiber arm sockets and shiny hooks.

"I would, but I kinda need them for things like taking clothes off."

"Then why don't you start with me?" I shake my body as a small little tease.

"I thought you'd never ask, honey." You delicately hold my face between your hooks as you give me a deep, long kiss. Once the kiss breaks, you clamp down onto my one-piece summer dress and slide it slowly over my shoulders, to reveal the sports bra containing my large rack and my open, shaved pussy. I usually never wear any underwear since it typically makes things messy when I try to use the restroom, so I make it a habit to wear clothes that hide my exhibitionism.

"Wow, you really have a way of making a girl feel inadequate." You laugh as we both scan over my athletic body and C-cup breasts. I will say I'm glad that even in my lack of physical fitness, most of the fat that I've gained has gone to my boobs and butt.

"Don't be like that, you're gorgeous."

"Likewise, Amber." You back in for another kiss, your hooks tracing along the lines of my shoulders down to the hem of my bra. You try to snag at the tight spandex before finally slipping your hook inside and pulling my bra over my head, finally freeing my large breasts, barely dropping from the effects of gravity. You embrace me again for another kiss as my pussy starts to glisten with juices. I'm the one to break the kiss as I move my head to bite the straps of your dress. You stand up and shake yourself out of your dress before picking me up.

We embrace for another kiss as you take me into the bedroom. You break the kiss and set me down on the bed, my naked body on full display for you.

"I want to see your stumps."

"In due time, sweetie." You use your hooks to undo the pressure valves on your legs and undo the straps of your hooks, setting them on the dresser next to your myoelectric arms with cute painted nails finally showing off your arms. You step out of your legs, revealing beautiful short legs, all your stumps are finally revealed as you begin to knee walk over to the bed before hopping up.

I bite my lip in anticipation as I look at the beautiful woman currently only in liners and underwear coming towards me.

I waddle over to you slowly as I'm desperate to get the liners off your stumps. As I finally reach the blunt ends of your legs, I begin to nibble at the sock over your right stump. It takes a couple of tries, but I eventually get my teeth on the cloth and slide it off your leg before moving onto your left leg. I take a moment to glimpse at what I've been wanting to see since our first date: two beautiful stumps ending three inches below the knee each with a small, faint scar.

I kiss the sensitive skin and lick the scars along your stumps, as you moan and bite off the liners on your arms. Within the liners are two little nubs that barely extend past your elbows, each with faded scars. As I move higher up your legs to your inner thigh, you start to rub your breasts still trapped beneath your bra with your stumps. I watch as you're desperately trying to reach your pussy with the blunt end of your right arm, but to no avail due to its short length. As much as I want to eat out the soaking patch in your panties, there's something else I have in mind first.

"Lean over on your back, I want to take off your bra."

You lean forward as I waddle and climb onto your back, moving across to reach the lone zipper that's keeping your boobs trapped with their cloth enclosure. You put one of your stumps up to my pussy as it comes across your face, leaving me gasping for more. I grab the zipper with my mouth and slide it down, before waddling back to let you move back to an upright position and slide the straps off your shoulders, freeing your aching D-cup boobs. Before your bra even hits the bed, I'm already crawling forward to get one of your erect nipples into my mouth. Your moans grow louder with every lick and nibble, and you nearly explode when I give the lightest bite pink dot.

"Oh god, Amber." You run your stumps through my short hair as the wet spot on your panties continues to grow larger. You start to force my head down towards your pussy while continue to kiss along your stomach, my boobs squashed against your body. I finally reach your panties and bite and tear at the cloth, sliding it down your legs to finally unveil your soaking, hairless pussy. I slide them off your incomplete legs before you grab my head with your arm nubs and shove my face right into your pussy, practically screaming with ecstasy.

I begin to lick at your folds, teasing the clitoris and trying to penetrate your entrance with my tongue. I hear you scream, "Yes Amber, please. I've been dreaming about your pretty face in my cunt." As I continue to lick and your legs thump against the bedsheets, I re-enter the bottomless pit that is my train of thought. I really can't tell if I'm okay with such a response like that. I'm honestly questioning if I'm truly comfortable again. While my pussy currently making a stain on the bedsheets that tells one story, my brain speaks of another. I feel amazing, and I'm kinda enjoying giving you cunnilingus, but just hearing what you've said bounce around my head like a child on a trampoline makes really wonder if I'm truly okay. I don't know how much the alcohol, your sweet scent, your juices, or my adrenaline is doing in terms of letting me enjoy this.

I think you've realized as I've started to squirm a bit, so you pick me up with your stumps and set me face up on the bed, bringing a nub to my large breast. I moan as you knead the flesh of my boob before circling around the areola, leaning in as we lock lips. The circle grows tighter until you get to my nipple that's as hard as diamonds. You trace my shoulders with your other nub and continue to move down my body until you reach my breasts.

"I'm not cumming unless we cum together," you say before taking a nipple within your mouth. I gasp as you skillfully use your tongue along my tits. My shoulders twitch as one of the only ways, aside from moaning, to express my satisfaction to the stimulation I'm receiving. You move your stumps down to my pussy, rubbing the folds with the blunt ends of your arms. As much as I've been all over the place in terms of my comfort levels, I feel content being teased like this, having no control over the situation.

I whimper as you finally stop, moving across the bed until your pussy is in line with my face. You lower and begin to eat me out as I begin to eat out your pussy. Our moans begin to coalesce into a song of pure ecstasy, ebbing and flowing as it continues to rise as we both near orgasm. Soon, we scream in unison as our orgasms take over our actions. I feel your juices spray in my face and watch you bite down on your stump as my juices squirt into your face. You turn to face me before collapsing on top of me, our breasts squishing against each other as we recover from our ecstatic orgasms.

"Amber, you're fucking amazing. I didn't know a little torso could fuck like that." You giggle a bit as the absurdity of the sentence finally processes through your brain.

"I didn't know you could squirt like that, my nubby little girlfriend." I pause in time as I process what I just said. Girlfriend?

"I guess we're both allowed to call each other that now." You prop yourself up to look into my eyes, currently lost in thought. Did I just say girlfriend? I've only known you for maybe two weeks and just had sex with you, and now we're girlfriends. I shake the lingering thoughts out and muster up a response.

"Yeah, I think so." I try to lean in for a kiss, but my head only goes so far as my stumps strain, unable to reach you. You giggle before finally returning the favor.

"Deal! I'm going to cuddle the shit out of you tonight," you say, a yawn making its way out of your throat. "I guess we'll just have to figure out how to get you to the bathroom."

"Let's worry about that when it happens." I let a smile slip through the cracks of my mouth. You fiddle with my hair for a while before awkwardly grabbing the sheets with your stumps and pulling them over the two of us. You wrap your stumps around me like a big teddy bear and drift off. I lay for a bit continuing to process what has happened today. Eventually, I decide to let my thoughts leave me and just accept the situation. A beautiful amputee girlfriend with her stumps wrapped around me as she sleeps. I finally feel happy, content.

As I finally drift off to sleep, I can only think of the bliss in store for us for the future.