of love

Me and Crayoncakes had always been close friends. We’d had slumber parties, shared secrets and made out – you know, the general things all girls go through.

We were best friends, and even though she was in a wheelchair I never looked down on her. Some people might’ve made fun of her for being a black cripple, but not me. No, to me she was special. Everything about her was special, and her so called “disabilities” only amplified that.

Amplified those feelings.

All those things I thought about her.

Sometimes I’d catch myself just staring wistfully at her as she serenely rolled across the room, my heart pounding. I would try to quickly avert my eyes but I could tell she saw, that she knew. I wasn’t sure if she kept it quiet for the sake of our friendship or because she felt the same.

And so one day I decided to find out.

It was simple. We’d have another one of our slumber parties and watch movies. I’d slyly ask segue into a discussion about sex. About kissing. I’d confess I’d never done it before. I’d act helpless, ask for advice.

And it went just as planned. She moved in for the kiss, gently cradled my chin. And I felt her lips planted against mine. My lips parted and her tongue swept into my mouth. The smell of the tv dinner she’d just eaten wafted out of her mouth. (She’s poor.)

The kiss quickly became a pbumionate embrace, with my hands moving all over her body. First gripping her chest and then her atrophied legs. I ripped off her pants with one hand while simultaneously undoing my blouse with the other.

But she stopped me. She confessed to me that when her father drunkenly drove his semitruck over she had become hideously disfigured. I pointed out to her that that I knew, because she was in a wheelchair. I mean, what did she think – that I just thought she was a lazy **** who didn’t want to exercise her legs?

But she went on. She told me her woman's genitals was horribly mutilated by the 18 wheels that had pbumed over it. That it could barely feel anything at all.

She began to sob and I cradled her head against my chest and whispered into her ear, “It’s okay baby, I’ll make you feel. I’ll **** the **** out of your crippled black bum.”

I threw her from her wheelchair and on top of the bed, went to the garage and frantically began searching for a screwdriver. She asked me what I was doing and so I said, “I’m searching for a screwdriver.”

She told me her family was too poor for screwdrivers. I went down to Wal-Mart and bought a screwdriver, when I returned she was playing videogames. I ripped the console out from it’s socket and threw it against the wall. I could tell I was turning her on.

I went over to her chair and began disbumembling it and grabbed the wheel. I walked over to her and began fingering her, but my entire hand quickly sunk into the depths of her woman's genitals, followed next by my arm. Before her cavernous male reproductive organhole of death gripped my entire body I grounded myself with the bed post and quickly shoved the wheel in her, effectively plugging her up – for now.

to be continued