Yossi

I once was in love with a guy who had no arm.
Well, he had it to begin with, but it was amputated after a war injury.

Yossi was a great sculptor and a very successful artist before the war.
Now, he worked with a prosthetic arm, and still made beautiful sculptures (in stone!!!)

We met in the country club where both of us loved to swim.
Our friendship developed over tea, after our long swims.

Yossi was not in love with me.
He loved another girl .
She was also a member of our County Club, a real voluptuous beauty, who did not give him a second look.

I was a skinny, bony thing, barely a woman.

Still, we went to sleep together in his bed.
He lived in a beautiful apartment in an upscale part of town.

I cried the first time we made love.
Yossi turned to me and asked softly: “why are you crying?”

“It is the first time I had an orgasm with a man.” I said weeping.

Yossi was not my first lover, but he was the first man my body responded to.

He was not a phony, a thief that will say a million sweet things to get a girl into his bed.

He was smart, funny and shy, and because he had no arm- he was humble too.

We had many laughs together about how I could observe the breasts of the girl he was in love with, while I was in the women’s sauna with her, and how later, I could paint or describe them to him- I never did it.

Yossi never got together with the girl of his dream, and our paths finally diverged too.

We no longer licked each other’s body, but we stayed good friends.

I remember once, while sitting in an outdoor cafe in the city with my new boyfriend, Yossi drove by in his BMW convertible.

“For a man with only one arm,” said my boyfriend grumpily, “He sure waved at you with great enthusiasm and many arms”