Subete A Mi Moto – SM 2019 Story #7

Reflection – Subete A Mi Moto

* Subete A Mi Moto = Climb Up On My Ride

So much of the erotica/smut that I came across when I was younger was severely lacking in diversity – be it racial, ethnic, physical/cognitive ability, body shape, etc. I had to comb through Alt.Sex.Stories for diversity using search terms that were often stereotypical or fetishized. As a Latina of a certain age with a chronic illness and a son with significant cognitive challenges, being representative and inclusive with my writing is important to me. The story below is an example of my intention to be more inclusive for the competition within limited word counts that didn’t allow much room for character description. In A Little Help, Please (#7), I challenged myself to write about a protagonist with physical challenges.

A Little Help, Please – Smut Marathon 2019 Story #7

In this round, we were asked to write a story inspired by an image of padlocks.

“Is trust really risk masquerading as a promise? Or more a confident relationship to the unknown?”

Sitting in his wheelchair facing their bed, Amanda’s latest philosophical ponderings replayed in Drake’s mind. Just last week they’d lain there — her reading from Phillips and Botsman, and he enchanted by the curls falling over her glasses. Now, though, the mood was decidedly wanton. She sat naked on their bed, tawny legs tucked beneath her, and winked at him.

Amanda’s playful spirit, that jubilant confidence, had always encouraged his lust for adventure. Drake allowed himself an instance of sentimentality before focusing on the hands gliding up and around her to grip each of her breasts. When he’d invited Jerome to join them, he’d taken care to explain what they needed in a conduit.

“I’ll understand if you say no,” Drake had assured him. “But I’d rather it be you. I trust you.”

It hadn’t surprised him when Jerome didn’t hesitate. Jerome had always been there for him, even through the worst of times. There was symmetry in him being there for some of the best of them, too.

Amanda’s whimpers stirred Drake from the memory.

“Go easy,” he instructed. “She needs to be warmed up.”

“Oh, but I’m so warm already, love,” she insisted while lacing her graceful fingers over Jerome’s hands, guiding them harder onto her dark nipples.

Amused, Drake knew she was ready when she’d eagerly undressed earlier to reveal the veracity of her arousal as evidenced by the delicate trail in her panties. He wanted to pick her up like he used to and take his time with her impetuousness. But this — this was good, too.

Jerome’s bulky frame belied an elegant touch as he massaged Amanda’s breasts with one hand while using the other to explore her fleshy belly. He pulled the generous curve of her abdomen back against his body and then slid his fingers between her thighs, prompting her gasp.

“Please!”

Drake willingly relented.

“Bring her to me so I can feel how warm she really is.”

Amanda squealed with glee as Jerome scooped her up and placed her gently onto Drake’s lap. She landed with familiar warmth, the force of her exhale strong on Drake’s face as he kissed her nose and caught her brown eyes with his gaze.

“Do you remember that time we were fooling around in your Dad’s tool shed and your brother thought it’d be funny to lock us inside?”

“Of course, I do,” Amanda replied after a beat. “I wanted to kill him because he never owned up to it and we had to wait so long for my Dad to get home with the key! But, why are you…”

“Well, that’s because your brother didn’t do it,” Drake confessed, grinning. “I did. I saw the padlock just hanging there and, when you weren’t looking, I locked us in.”

Amanda opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. Realization struck as the memories flooded back and inspired a wide smile of her own.

“You wonderful, sneaky bastard!” she exclaimed while bouncing on his lap. Her appreciation for his naughty streak was always the perfect aphrodisiac. He kept his voice steady when he spoke again.

“I want to have you like I did when I bent you over that toolbox.”

Wide-eyed, Amanda nodded enthusiastically. Looking up at Jerome, she entreated, “a little help, please, handsome” and gestured to Drake. Jerome nodded as well, made his way behind the wheelchair to engage the brakes, and gripped the handles to offer more support. Amanda flipped herself around, tucked her legs on either side of Drake’s hips on the chair, and bent over the edge of the bed to present her rear right up to Drake’s face.

What began as long, slow licks to her labia soon became insatiable laps between her engorged lips. Drake relished in the musky sweetness of her scent as Amanda dripped from nostalgia and the novelty of being watched. She eagerly reached back with one hand to part her pussy and undulated her hips to help him better reach her tender places. Later, still trembling from the force of her climax, she turned to kiss her beloved.

“That was even better than that time in the shed,” she gushed.

“Remember what we did next then?” Drake asked, with mischief and pride in his expression.

 Swallowing hard, Amanda looked up at their friend.

“Oh, Jerome, we’re going to need more than just a little help with this!”

Post Image Credit: Carolyna Luna (with permission from my gorgeous bestie)