The big mirror was clouded with condensation, and I was grateful for that. Feeling the scars, the long, scraggy one across my abdomen and the many small ones, mainly on my legs while showering had been bad enough. There was no need for me to see them.

Wrapped in the towel I made my way to the bedroom. Hair still dripping wet I reached for one of David's tank tops and a pair of his boxers. He would be home late, again. And somehow it comforted me, to smell him, even if it was just his clothes, around me. The shirt was too big, but I did not care. I missed him, his touch, the way he used to fuck me.

He had been there, in the hospital. He had held my hand, as the doctor had told me about my injuries, the things they had done, to safe my life. We would never have kids; the scars would last a lifetime.

Just one day later, David had asked me to marry him. Happy, and more of a bit scared, I had said yes. Soon after I had been discharged from the hospital, back home to our flat. Still recovering, I hadn't noticed at first. The way he looked at me, treated me, never touch me. He would come to bed late, get up early. Yes, he fixed me food, made me comfortable but he avoided being close to me.

Sighing I flung the towel in the laundry basket. He had seen me naked since. Only once, after I had seen the look on his face – pity, mixed with something I couldn't place – I had made sure, to cover at least the big one at all times. Could we go on like this? Even get married? Did I want that?

I would return to my unit as soon as possible, a month from now at the earliest. Time enough, to make up my mind. The flat was still more his than ours. My few belongings nearly vanished between his. Smiling, I remembered the look on his face, as I had moved in. Even though he had seen my room in the shared flat, he had been surprised by the three boxes and three holdalls. And most of it was just my kit.

I walked back to the living room sat down at the desk and started his computer. Gaming was as good to block out these thoughts and memories than any other way. But instead of clicking the game icon, I clicked the one for the browser. Maybe doing something productive – and I froze.

Loud moaning, the ads for some camsite flashed on the screen. He had been watching porn. Without me, without even telling me. We had watched together, either laughing at it, or getting horny, sometimes both. But that had been before... now, he was doing it on his own – and didn't touch me anymore.

My mouth was dry as I watched, without really seeing. This could have been us... before.... My fingers shook as I moved the mouse, ***ed another tab and started to type.

"Hey, you should be in bed." David's voice woke me. "I was waiting for you", I mumbled, still sleepy. "You shouldn't. You need rest." He sounded reproachful, but added, nearly as an afterthought "have you eaten?"

Shaking my head, I sat up. "Not hungry." Sleeping on the sofa had twisted his tank top around my body. Only when I was sitting, I realised, that one of my small tits was uncovered. For an instant, a hungry expression flitted over David's face, then it was gone, and he looked away.

That hurt. "I can move out, you don't have to marry me," I blurted out, got to my feet and turned to get away. "I'll get the rest of my shit, when I have found a place."

"You don't have to." He stepped towards me. One look at him, and I knew, that I loved him, had loved him for a long time. I wanted to stay, wanted to be his wife, be all he ever wanted. But could I? I wasn't even sure, what he had seen in me before this incident with the IED. And now? Scarred, still even skinnier than I had been, the nearly non-existent tits. I bit back the tears, turned away, though all I wanted was to be in his arms.

"It's better this way, you", I swallowed. "You deserve better than this, someone... someone you want to touch, to hold, to fuck..."

"Bullshit MacDonald", he interrupted me. With two strides he was behind me, put his hand firmly on my shoulder and turned me around. There was the look on his face again. Pity, underlying anger and... fear? "I want you, I want to touch you, to hold you, fuck you. But I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to lose you. It's my fault. If not for me, you wouldn't have been deployed again. You wouldn't... I thought... ", he gulped heavily. "I thought I had lost you."

I bit my lip. "It's not your fault. Things like this happen." A stupid thing to say, when my boyfriend – fiancé - had for the first time expressed what he thought and felt. But I had never been to good with words. Another flaw of mine.

"The doctor said, you might need time, to adjust and such. Nearly every night you're tossing and turning. And..."

"Fuck the doctor", I burst out. "Yes, I am not happy about the scars. Yes, I am still frustrated, that I am still recovering. Yes, I dream. About what happened, about you, leaving me." I flinched at the pained expression that flitted over his face. "And I dream about other shit, that happened in my past. These dreams are as old as me, and far more frequent, than the other ones. They stopped, when I was lying next to you, falling asleep in your arms, though." I finished more quietly. "I can understand, if you can't bear to look at me, to touch me."

David groaned. "If I touch you, I'm gonna fuck your brains out."

"Why don't you?!" My voice grew louder again with the desperation.

"Because I don't think, I could stop, even if I hurt you", he whispered and closed his eyes.

"If you fuck my brains out, that won't hardly matter", I retorted dryly, then I bit my lip again. "David", I sighed, "I can live with pain. I think I can even live with the knowledge, that you can't bear to look at me and we split up, but I can't live like this any longer. Being near you and not getting touched, not...", my voice trailed off.

"Don't leave." "Only if you stop avoiding me."

His grip on my shoulder tightened, he pulled me close. For the first time in ages he held me. I felt his body pressed against mine, his breath in my hair. David held me in his arms, but only for a short time. Then his hands ran over my body, greedy, hard. I looked up and he kissed me. It was desperate, wanting, and I responded just the same. Moaning in his mouth I closed my eyes. His fingers slid under my shirt, up, groping at my small tits, pressing them, rubbing the nipples. Down again. I flinched, as his fingers brushed over the big scar. "Shh", David breathed in my mouth, his fingers still all over my skin.

Slowly, he started to move, directed me backwards to the sofa. "Maybe not the first time", he panted, his had rubbing my crotch. "Uh?", puzzled I opened my eyes. He smiled down on me, his boyish smile and I could not help myself but smile back.

The edge of the sofa was right behind me. One hand on my lower back, the other on my shoulder, he let me down. His hands were all over my body again. Brushing the tank top aside he freed my left tit. One knee between my legs he knelt down, sucked the nipple. I moaned, spread my legs quite naturally.

His hand slid up my leg, just straight into the boxers. "I like that... easy access", he murmured, and stopped, as his fingers reached my pussy-lips. I could only too well imagine, how they must feel to him, from the longing I felt. Swollen, parted and wet with my juices, that were already flowing freely, after this short spell.

"You are still so wet", he murmured in awe. I didn't reply. Lying back and breathing heavily, I enjoyed his fingers touching me, exploring the familiar folds, he hadn't touched for so long.

David fumbled with his belt, the buttons of his pants. I reached out, pulled him close to me for one more desperate kiss, while he struggled to get his pants down. Pre-cum left a smear on my belly and he moaned. "Oh fuck, MacDonald."

To help him, I wanted to lift my ass, but he pinned me down. With one hand he pulled the leg of the boxer shorts up and aside, his other hand directed his hard cock towards my greedy, leaking cunt.

I gasped, as he entered. It hurt. The sharp pain from having a big cock after a long time of abstinence. The pain would subside with each thrust. I would get used to it again. Hard and deep, he pushed his cock inside me. Once, twice, as he buried himself for the third time, I felt him come. His dick was pulsating inside me, filling me with his load.

Still panting, he buried his face in my long hair. Smiling I touched his neck, fumbled with the short hairs on the back of his head. "Maybe next time."

This story was taken from one these sites, check them out to find more sex stories:

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