The mirror displays my bitter disgust. My mascara is running down my cheeks. My eyes are bloodshot, and everything is blurry. I wipe the newly falling tears away and focus on the road. Never in my life have I needed support as much as I do this very minute.

  Pulling the truck up behind Crane’s car, I turn off the ignition and stare at the house I used to spend so much time in. This isn’t how I want to reunite with his mom. She’ll want to hold me and catch up, while all I want to do is bury myself in a hole and never come out. I want to scream at the top of my lungs and run to a dark lonely place where nothing can hurt me again.

  The curtain in the window moves to the side, and a few seconds later the front door opens. Crane steps out and looks toward the truck. I offer a wave, but can’t bring myself to get out and meet him.

  Right away he must know something is wrong. He closes the door behind him and heads in my direction. He opens the door and takes in my disgruntled appearance. He doesn’t ask me for information when he pulls me down into his arms. Why is it when people comfort you it makes your emotions go into overdrive? I don’t understand. This should make me feel better, but I’m literally bawling in the middle of the street.

  Crane continues to rub my back, offering support while wondering what in the hell has gotten me in such a state.

  It’s not long until I’m able to pull away and compose. “Sorry.”

  “You okay now?”

  As soon as he asks I begin to cry again. “No. Everything is wrong. I just can’t believe this is happening to me.”

  He puts his arm around me and leads me toward the house.

  “I don’t want your mom seeing me like this.”

  “She loves you.”

  “I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

  “Raims.” He stops walking and forces me to look in his eyes. Crane wipes the fresh tears away. I can tell he feels remorseful. He probably pities me. “I don’t know what happened, but my mom would never hate you. We’re glad you’re back. Trust me, she’s missed having company.”

  I roll my stinging eyes. “Give me a break. I’m sure you’ve brought women here.”

  “No I haven’t. My mom doesn’t want to befriend hussies.”

  “Have there been a lot since I’ve been gone?”

  He sighs. “Four years is a long time, Raims. Yeah, there’s been a few. None were serious.”

  “Don’t even say it’s because you were holding out for me.”

  “I don’t know. I never got that feeling where I wanted them to be more than just casual. You’re shoes are hard to fill. Maybe it’s impossible.”

  “I hate sweet talkers,” I remind him.

  He smirks, a guffaw escaping him. “Yeah, don’t worry. This is a one time conversation, and I’ll deny every bit of it later.”

  I shove him playfully. “You better.”

  His arm is around me as he leads me into the home. The smell of their dinner and possibly dessert overwhelms me. I’m salivating, and distracted, which is what I need. “Oh my God, I’ve missed this house.”

  “Mom made homemade Lemon Meringue pie. There’s plenty left,” he offers as we make our way to the kitchen.

  Four years hasn’t changed his mother. She still wears her dark black hair in a bob, roots of gray pop out where it parts. Her smile is always highlighted by a bright shade of red. In all honesty, she’s like an aged Snow White. Maybe that’s why I always admired her. She’s a diamond in the rough. Her arms extend as I approach, and the moment she envelopes me I’m at peace. We stand this way for several minutes, as if this can make up for the four years I’ve been absent. “I’ve missed you so much, Mom. I’m so sorry for your loss. I shouldn’t have left.” She’s the only woman who has ever had that title for me, and I’ll be damned if I let a second slip by where she doesn’t know it.

  “Don’t say that. We all need to find our own way. It was hard, but Crane has taken good care of me. There’s nothing you could have done.” She’s comforting me more than I am her. Today I’m the weakest person I’ve ever met. “You look skinny, sweetheart.”

  “That’s because no one can cook like you in Vegas.”

  She pats me on the arm and gives me a second look. “I bet you’re hungry.”

  “I just ate at Linc’s house. We had lasagna.”

  Her brow arches. “Was it good?”

  I shrug. “It wasn’t yours.”

  “I made an Italian chicken for supper. It’s baked with a lemon butter mushroom coating in a creamy wine sauce. Would you like a plate?”

  I’m literally panting like a canine. “Um, definitely.”

  “Sit on down and I’ll heat you up a plate.”

  “I told her you made pie,” Crane adds.

  “Oh yes, I did. There’s plenty left over,” she tells us while preparing a plate to feed an army of people.

  Crane and I meet gazes. I can sense how thrilled he is to have me back in his childhood home. Admitting I’m happy to be here is an understatement, especially considering how fucked up my day has been. This house represents family to me. Right now it’s the only place I can think of off the top of my head where I’m not burdened by lies, questions, and life changing revelations.

  I’m halfway through my plate and catch-up conversation when Crane reminds his mother of the time. “Mom, it’s nearly six. Are you still going to bingo?”

  She reaches over an touches my hand. It’s been a while since human kindness has been offered to me. Granted, Crane has been a relief, but it’s not the same. We have problems to work through, where this woman is like a saint. “I have church bingo tonight and I’m calling the numbers. I hate to leave so soon. Would you like me to find someone who can cover for me?”

  I shake my head. “No. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

  She stands and offers me a hug before leaving the room.

  It’s quiet in the house. Crane flips through the television channels while I finish my pie. After doing the dishes I used, I venture around, reminiscing about all the times I stayed over. His father’s office is the last door down the hallway. I walk inside and look around, noticing not much has been moved. They’ve left it like a shrine, but it’s clear his mom still does her bills and files her important documents in the cabinets. Some are left open, while receipts sit on the desktop.

  I plant my ass in the swivel chair and spin around, looking at every picture on the wall. Crane was luckier than I was. His family could afford to go on vacation. Each year they’d go on a cruise, and then to the beach. Most of the summer they would spend camping at different locations after taking long road trips. I went a couple times with them, and cherish those little moments in my life when I was around normal people.

  Crane might have been a trouble maker in the streets of Jersey, but he never acted up when he was with his parents. He knew better.

  The sound of him sneezing catches me off guard. I turn the chair to face the door and spot him walking in. “Hey.”

  “I come in here sometimes. I don’t think much is different.” He starts looking at the bookshelf and pulls a hardback out. It’s an old yearbook. “This was my dad’s graduate year.”

  “Let me see. I want to know how much you look like him at that age.”

  We flip through pages and search for his name. I point when I spot it. “There.”

  Crane and I are both amused by his large butterfly collar and thick glasses. The late seventies wasn’t the best for fashion. “Wow.”

  Crane makes a comment about my firm ass in the tight jeans I’m wearing, wondering if his mom had some like it. “Weirdo!”

  He slaps me lightly then pulls me onto his lap. We tumble to the mattress, only to end up tangled together, me hoisted over him. He brings both hands up into my hair and stares me in the eyes. “I think I have something to take your problems off your mind.”

  “More pie?” I tease.

  He flashes and inquisitive glare before giving me a better idea of what he’s referring to. “How about some old porn?”

  “What?” I manage to say through laughter.

  “I found my dad’s old stash. It’s on VHS.”

  “Do you even have a player?”

  “As a matter of fact,” he takes me by the hand and pulls me off the bed and back into the office. On the highest shelf he pulls down a very dusty massive machine. “How do you know it’ll work? And are you sure this is how you want to spend tonight? We could go back to your place, rent something dirty, take a bath.”

  “No. I’m invested in this. We’re seeing it through.”

  I follow behind him, totally convinced he’s being silly as a distraction. It’s possible Crane knows I’m comfortable in this house. He probably thinks taking me back to the shop will only remind me of everything on my mind. A little distraction is exactly what I need.

  About a half hour later he’s figured out how to get the player to work with a high definition television. He has to YouTube a video, sort through a box of cables in the attic, and disconnect something in the living room. The picture works great, but there’s no sound, not that it matters. I usually turn it down anyway.

  Prepared to laugh at what we see, Crane and I sit on his bed with our backs against the headboard, much like we did when we were younger.

  A couple, both with full on bushes, are positioned on a bed decorated in orange and brown flowers. The woman crawls over and rubs her tiny brown nipples, then shakes them in her lover’s face. His thick mustache hides his lips, but it’s obvious he begins sucking on them. Without much passion or ability to portray a couple with chemistry, the female starts jerking the guy off. He spreads his legs and lets her work, then shoves her head down until she’s gagging on his shaft. For nearly ten minutes this bitch goes at it, while the dude’s eyes roll in the back of his head. Before he’s able to ejaculate, she pulls away and basically jumps on top of him. She’s riding him to town like a cowgirl, even waving her arms around like she’s on a raging bull. It’s so funny I can’t contain the laughs. Crane joins in, giving his own commentary as to what the woman is thinking, so I take the brooding male’s lead.

  The movie plays, different positions being done, all while they make the most ridiculous faces. The orgasm is supposed to be simultaneous, though it looks more like the woman is running from a scary clown, while the guy sticks out his tongue like he’s actually panting.

  My ribs hurt from the hysterics, and just when I’m relieved it’s finally over, Crane puts in another video.

  Before climbing on the bed again, he pulls his shirt over his head, and takes off his trousers. He’s wearing a pair of tight boxer briefs that show off every inch of what’s underneath. I take him in, my eyes raking each inch of exposed skin. His tattoos are reminders of a lot of wild nights, and the scratches across his chest are the remnants of our last encounter. Seeing him like this makes me vulnerable. We’re in his childhood room, a porno flick plays on the small television, while he’s giving me that look, the one that says we’re about to go at it.

  Without speaking, I get on my knees and remove my top. He’s on me before anything else can come off.

  Turning toward the television that’s now playing sound, I see three people on a bed. Two guys are banging the shit of some blonde. She’s taking it simultaneously up in the ass and pussy. There’s no denying that she’s into it. Her screams are familiar. It’s how I sound when I’m about to lose control. Watching them violate her orifices turns me on. Crane adjusts in the bed, sitting across from me and seeing what I am. He starts stroking my leg, while giving me his undivided attention.

  For some reason I have the urge to masturbate in front of him. I want him to witness me watching this inappropriate ménage, all while I rub my clit until I come in hypnotic pulsing waves.

  He announces, “I’m going to fuck you.” And I feel an electric charge throughout my body. Fantasies flood my mind, forcing me to wonder if we can experience them right now. “You want me,” I say while running my hand down my pants. “Right here on this bed?”

  “Yes, bad. So fucking bad. Don’t stop what you’re doing.”

  My breath is stuck as I continue, his hands skimming upward, his fingers grazing across the curves of my breasts. His fingers trace around my chest and dip into the valley between my tits. I want to be totally naked and his for the taking. Heat crawls all over my body. Inch by inch his magnificent physique is in view. My toes curl as I stare at his erect, thick cock. The head is purple as he strokes, and swollen, heavy veins wrap around the shaft, almost silently calling for relief. I can’t resist reaching out and taking him into my hand. My palm is overwhelmed completely. The constant pulsating of my own pussy threatens to bring vicious waves of desire that will soon drown me. I’m so heavily sedated by lust I’m practically panting. I consider taking his hard, delicious dick down my throat as I continue to stroke him. He’s so stiff, engorged, and ready to explode by my hand. When I can’t stand the thought of neglect my tongue flicks over his dick’s head. Immediately the salty taste of precum is noticeable. I lick my lips for his viewing enjoyment and dip down again, enveloping my mouth around that rock hard tower.

  I’m soaked. I don’t have to travel down beneath my panties to know I’m drip with excitement. I imagine him sucking on my labia and clit ring and my pelvis thrusts.

  My tongue circles around his cock. I keep sucking, harder and harder until he’s taking in a deep breath and groaning. Applying pressure to the lower end of his shaft gets the same reaction. He’s writhing, tugging on my hair and struggling to keep his eyes focused.

  I need this distraction. Crane knows how to handle me, giving me unapologetic sex to avoid more worry. I’m shaking, coming undone with a mouth full of Crane’s cock. My pussy throbs, and I’m pretty sure I’m so turned on between the sounds of the porno flick and hearing Crane’s enjoyment. My head bobs up and down, over and over, my cheeks feeling sore and tired. I want him to come. I want to swallow his load down and thank him for this momentary lapse of euphoria, but he has other things in mind. He’s pulling me away from my task, one hand remains cradling his balls, but is soon unable to reach. “Let me finish you off,” I whine.

  I keep thinking about what he wants as he fights to remove my tight jeans. The elastic of my panties rip when he gets frustrated and rushes. I can’t remember a time where I was this turned on. I feel like getting a rise out of Crane as he still works to free the pants from my ankles. “You want your dick in this pussy?” I ask while traipsing the back of my hand over it. “Fast. Hard. Everything in between. You better hurry before I decide to take matters in my own hands,” I threat.

  My pants hit the wall with his toss. Crane’s focus is back on me and where he wants to be first.

  He hovers over me and offers his swollen cock. I suck it in as far as possible and tighten my hold as he fight to draw it out. A loud pop fills the room when he takes it out.

  Crane lingers down, his tongue flicking my aureoles one at a time. He focuses on them, sucking, licking and biting, making me writhe and cry out.

  I want him to pound me. I’m ready to be taken and there’s nothing else on my mind. It’s not possible to think in this scenario. It’s just us and our carnal need to satisfy one another.

  Then he’s there, teasing the base of my pussy with his stare. I sit up on my elbows to capture every second of his latest conquest. My tits rise and fall as deep breaths struggle to calm. He licks my clit, the gold ring moving around and pinching in a way that provides indescribable pleasure. His tongue continues to stroke me there. I’m coming undone, shuddering all over. My body arches, I’m losing my ability to do small things like keep my eyes focused. Ripples of pure bliss rush throughout my body as I’m taken to places I never thought I’d go again.

  Desire washes over me then the brink of ecstasy follows.

  I’m screaming, tightening, losing all control. He’s still licking, his tongue now ravels at my opening, lapping up every bit of excitement he’s caused my body to produce.

  He waits for me to settle before positioning himself between my feeble legs. The head of his cock teases my swollen outer lips and each time it hits my clit I jerk, a lingering sensation bringing me to experience mini spasms. He applies pressure, my pussy accepting him, and soon him engulfed in my soaked walls.

  “Yeah, Crane. That’s what you wanted. Give it to me.”

  He thrusts and groans. His balls slap against my taint and he gets into a pounding groove. Crane’s hands grip my hips as he gets his pace. His dick goes deeper. Crane’s dick fits like a tight glove, the friction sending me into a wild frenzy. He places one finger on my clit, circling it with enough pressure to send me bonkers. Pleasure shoots through me. My toes point, while my breaths become strained.

  My needy walls clench and push his thrust as I fall apart again. Then I feel him. He’s tightening. I reach behind and hold onto the headboard as his uses his strength to fight the muscles of my pussy. He’s coming, I can feel it pumping out inside of me. Our eyes connect for that final moment as we crash hard in a kiss.

  He falls overtop of me, slipping to the side to prevent from knocking the wind out of my lungs. “I fucking love you,” he manages between pants.

  Does he? Still? Was what we had so real it withstood years of being apart? Am I able to return the same gesture? If I say it, does it erase the past? Will it give me closure and offer me a future I never would have allowed before?