Evolving Crane

by Dave Welch

  I could’ve dropped my head some more if it was physically possible. I felt like falling to the ground in my dismay. But I noticed that she hadn't made it to her car yet.

  Then, I heard the car crank and the door shut.

  Did I take too long to save the day? Maybe not…

  I abandoned the thought of losing her, and I rushed off to the front door. Maybe I could catch her leaving and possibly even change her mind.

  I slung the front door open, and-

  Wham!

  She slapped the shit out of me.

  I saw stars and streaks. It took me a second to gather myself, stretching my jaw, confessing my justification.

  “I deserved tha-”

  -She jacked me up, dropping her bags and kissing me roughly.

  I lifted her up by her plump ass as she jumped in the air, wrapping her legs around me. She pressed the auto-crank button, turning her car off as I spun around.

  Holding her tight, I slammed the door back.

  She stopped kissing me, and she stared into my eyes. I looked back at her, and we connected like a plugin, a socket.

  We kissed vigorously.

  She threw her keys into the adjacent hall and ripped me out of my shirt.

  I kissed her passionately on her neck, and she melted away in affection. I carried her into the kitchen and sat her up on the counter. She unbuckled my pants, whereas I was hard as a steel beam.

  I grabbed a handful of her breast, and she clinched me in with her legs, digging deep into my boxers. She fondled me to her liking.

  Ripping a hole in her black leggings, I dived, face first, into her puddle of moisture.

  She moaned like never before as she toyed with my ears. I grabbed her ass again and lifted her clean into the air while dancing my tongue about her sweet candy.

  She yelled as she released her legs, only to wrap them around my shoulders. She squeezed my head tight with her thighs, then she scratched into my back “AAhhh… Fuck!” She hollered, as her posture weakened. Her long, beautiful hair concealed her multiple expressions of glee.

  I walked over to the coffee bar while still holding her up in the air. With her hips and her thighs resting above my shoulders, I gripped her tightly by her ass, then sat her on the bar carefully.

  Gasping for air, Canieya released the grip in her thighs.

  “Shit… I’m bout’ to cum,” Canieya moaned.

  I immediately stopped the warm, affectionate savoring of her all-you-can-eat buffet. She gripped me by my ears again, lifting my head up to her face. We kissed again, but this time it was full of juicy spit. She reached down to me again, rubbing my steel rod against her gooey center.

  She laid her head in the refuge of my shoulders as she caressed herself. Then, she licked in my ear, and whispered seductively, “…Fuck me, Crane.”

  I laid my log deep into her campfire slowly. The deeper I traveled, the tighter she gripped me with her legs. She got hot and extremely passionate. Grabbing her hair, I yanked her head back, and stroked away with consistency.

  “Wait, Crane…” she said as she put her soft little hands against my brick-hard chest. “I want to put on my heels.”

  I couldn’t say anything. Maybe because I kind of fancied the audible. I backed away, and my two-by-four flopped sloppily out of her runny tunnel.

  She stepped down from the coffee bar and hurried off to her room, taking off her shoes and leggings in the process.

  I stood throbbing anxiously, staring down at myself as I propped up against the coffee bar, then I heard a couple of drawers open and close. Right then I noticed her heels, clocking along with her feet.

  I stared as she appeared in the kitchen’s entryway. She stood there to see me still bulging.

  Canieya was topless. She had a red silk garter belt and a pair of ultra-sheer, fully fashioned skin tone stockings. The ones without the elastic designs at the top. Then, she had on a pair of red, open-toe mules with a 6-inch stiletto heel.

  She advanced forward with a giggle.

  I drooled at the sighting.

  The exposing of her perfectly shaped body and circular plump breast only made things worse. For the appearance compounded my devilish thoughts.

  Canieya walked over to me and kneeled. She stared up into my eyes as she wrapped her mouth around my line of hope.

  I backed into the coffee bar as she snatched my shorts to my ankles, still leeching onto my metal railing. She stopped and stood to her feet, kissing me quickly.

  She mumbled, “Crane…I wanna have yo’ baby.”

  Canieya shoved me back as I laid on the bar. Then, she climbed on the countertop and stood over me with her hands on her hips. She looked down at me as her legs shivered.

  She smelled so good, and her skin was so soft.

  I was standing at full attention when she squatted on me without hesitation. Her aim was perfect as I slid in with finesse.

  She hollered as she gripped her boobs, lifting her head to the ceiling.

  “Fuck!” She screamed while consuming me, inch by inch.

  I sat up and wrapped my arm around her waist. She looked down at me, and I looked at her.

  She closed her eyes and bit into her bottom lip.

  “Fucking third arm Crane,” she said as I guided her up and down my plumbing shaft.

  “I love you, Crane….” She admitted with tears in her eyes.

  I didn’t respond.

  But we kissed deep into each other as I continued to penetrate her clouds of climactic arousal.

  Yeah, I fucked her. I made love to her. I had sex with her, knocked boots with her. I hid the salami with her, whatever you wanna call it, with her- for at least four hours that day and every day for an entire week after that. It was practically one of the best makeup sessions a man of my grandeur could ever know.

  I had finally been forgiven…

  A week later, in the misty dew of the morning, we laid next to each other in bed. She didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at her. But we both knew what was happening as she sat up from under the sheets.

  “I’m turning you in, Crane.” She uttered.

  “I can’t privatize this anymore…You are wanted in several states, and I am putting my future in danger by allowing you to go unpunished.”

  I finally rolled over to look at her face.

  She smiled with a joking expression, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Just because I forgave you doesn’t mean you get to treat me like that ever again.” She inserted.

  “Next time, I will kill you and then turn you in. Do you understand me?” She questioned.

  “Let’s get married,” I remarked.

  She turned away from me. “That’s out of the question,” she answered.

  Canieya was everything I ever wanted in a woman.

  “What if I quit. What if I stopped everything?” I pondered aloud.

  She threw the sheets back over my face as she climbed out of bed. “You’re not about to change, Crane. And I’m running late for work,” she concluded.

  “Can I get you some breakfast?” I yelled from under the sheets.

  “What da’ fuck, Crane! Did you not just hear me? I said I’m late already. No!” She bleated as she rushed off to get her clothes.

  I snatched the covers back from over my head, and I watched as she hurried off to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Then I caught a glimpse of an object that dropped from her pants pocket. I sat up to see what it was.

  Suddenly, she burst out of the bathroom and rushed over to snatch up the object. Then, she dashed back into the bathroom.

  “Hey! What that wuz?” I quizzed as she slammed the door.

  “Go ta’ hell!” She screamed.

  AAhhh…yep! She loves me.

  And I love the sound of her showering.

  My thoughts settled as I rolled over onto my back, linking my fingers behind my head. In return, I had fallen for her all over again. And even in our exact opposites, our night and day contradictory, we h
ad found a way to coexist…

  Our various makeup sessions did come with a bundle of consequences. As a matter of fact, as soon as she finished showering, she came out of the bathroom with her head down.

  She tossed the object onto the bed and mumbled, “Congratulations, Crane….”

  “…You’re a father.”

  She carried on as if it was nothing.

  I glanced down to see a pregnancy test.

  Canieya failed to mention that she and I were pregnant. I sat without a comment. We didn’t speak any more that day.

  We had a baby girl together, and this was my first child ever. But because of this odd unity, we had to raise Bookie secretly. Man, I had to change my identity. We were just so restricted in our united fashion. Because Canieya covered up so much of our private lives that she became an asset to our liable claims. Our love had become too dangerous to persist.

  By the end of that third year, Canieya insisted on moving for her new job. I remember her saying it so plain and clear.

  “Crane, I’m moving to London.”

  I refused to stand in her way. Plus, it was in our best interest. Honestly, I didn’t want to complicate her life anymore. The day she left was the day that I became a full-time father.

  For two years, without Canieya, I put my all into proper parenting. I taught Bookie to be better, wiser, and more loving than I could’ve ever been.

  Student of the Month

  The Bronx, New York: Pine Wood Magnet School

  Present Day

  “And the student of the month award goes to…” Principal Millard shouted as she opened the envelope.

  “Arla Lawson!”

  Oh my God! I lit up. I jumped out of my seat high fiving other parents as they sat befuddled. I was so glad because I felt as if I was succeeding as a parent.

  The pianist played while Bookie skipped across the stage.

  “Yeah!” I shouted as she curtseyed to the crowd.

  “This award has been given to you for showing signs of a dedicated, smart, and inspirational youngster. In addition, you show gifts and elements of leadership with a humbleness that will forever be a constant illustration to the students of Pine Wood Magnet School,” announced Principal Millard.

  “Damn Right!” I shouted from the rear of the newly remodeled gymnasium.

  Bookie smiled so hard when she received her award.

  I used the crowd’s applause as my opportune moment to jet down the aisle. I stood in front of the stage, taking pictures with my smartphone.

  As Bookie exited the stage, the pianist stopped playing.

  Soon, an awkward silence thrived amongst the crowd’s enthusiasm. Mainly because I was still amped. I was still taking pictures like a photographer during a photoshoot.

  “That’s my girl!” I yelled with several claps dampening amongst the echoes.

  Bookie was only five, and she had been accelerating in her academic intelligence for a while. I wouldn’t have it any other way. She was going to be great. I saw her changing the world.

  Afterwards, Bookie and I sat outside, chillin’ on the steps of the now vacant school.

  “Daddy, I did good?”

  “Yeap.” I responded.

  I couldn't have been any prouder.

  “Are you going to send pictures to mommy?”

  “Oh yeah! I can do that,” I said reluctantly as I took out my phone, hoping that she would change the subject.

  “Oh, I know! Let’s go get some ice cream!” she blurted.

  Yes. I thought to myself. “Ice cream it is,” I responded as I put my phone away.

  Then, I thought for a minute… That would be unfair to Canieya.

  “I want some sprinkles and skittles in mine, Daddy.”

  I smiled as I took my phone out again.

  “Well, let's go!” I shouted, selecting the pictures.

  She picked up her favorite blanket that Lawson knitted as I pressed the send button.

  I reached for her book bag, and incomplete blithe, we dashed off to the car. And man, I was so happy. I had finally succeeded in something other than criminal activity.

  We arrived at John John’s Ice Cream Parlor in no time. It was kind of right around the corner.

  I opened the doors as Bookie skipped in.

  I swear, she skips everywhere.

  We approached the ice cream bar to place our orders. I picked her up so she could watch the employee make her ice cream with skittles and sprinkles.

  “Can I get you anything else, ma’am?” asked the employee.

  “No…but my Daddy wants a double chocolate road with extra chocolate drizzle,” said Bookie.

  “How’d you know that?” I asked.

  “You order the same thing every time Daddy.”

  “One double chocolate road, coming up,” the employee shouted.

  Ding! Ding!

  The tiny bell above the parlor door jingled.

  I glanced around to see a couple of police officers entering. I smiled as they both looked over to me with faces of discernment.

  I was done.

  One officer walked up to the bar to place his order. The other officer walked over to me with his hands gripping his utility belt. His walkie-talkie sounded as I glanced over to the employee.

  “Daddy, can we sit over there?” Bookie asked, pointing to the rear of the ice cream shop.

  “Sure thing Bookie. Let me pay the man first,” I replied.

  I put her down, and she spun around with joy, only to see the officer standing in front of her.

  “Ooh wee! A police officer! Daddy! Daddy! I wanna see the police officer!” She hollered.

  The officer at the bar turned to our area, observing. Then, the officer closest to us peeped to his smartphone and then back up to me, squinting his eyes. He tilted his head and lowered his shades.

  “UH, huh…,” he grumbled as Bookie skipped over to the officer.

  She stopped in front of him.

  The officer was still looking at his cell phone when Bookie tugged on his pant leg. He finally looked away from his phone and into her happy face. The officer had been attempting to hold back his smile, but he couldn't resist.

  Bookie gestured upward to him, grunting for the officer to hold her. She danced with a smile while opening and closing her hands briefly. She giggled as the officer looked at me.

  “It's fine. She’s friendly like that,” I commented.

  The officer grinned as he put his phone away. He picked her up slowly and held her up to his chest. She wasted no time frolicking about the officer’s accessories, toying with his badge and buttons. As his intercom sounded, the officer chuckled with a joy that surpassed her own.

  “You gotta love kids, Huh?” I said with a smile.

  The officer stood silent with a grin.

  “You got kids?” I asked.

  “Nooo…” he mumbled.

  “My mommy was a police officer too!” Bookie shouted.

  “Oh, was she now?” Asked the officer.

  I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, nor was I sure about what was gonna happen next. I got nervous. I couldn’t go to prison today.

  “Uh—Huh,” said Bookie. “She moved to London cause my daddy helped her get a new job.”

  Bookie was sharper than a double-edged box cutter.

  “Oh my!” shouted the officer as the other officer finished with his order.

  I grabbed our cups of ice cream from the employee and walked over to Bookie and the other officer.

  “Ok, Bookie! It’s ready!” I gleamed in.

  “Yay!” she shouted as the officer put her down safely.

  “Let’s sit down first,” I noted while turning away from the officer.

  “I hate to be rude,” the officer inserted softly.

  I stopped during my turn.

  “Can I see your ID?” He spoke under his breath.

  “Of course.”

  I walked Bookie over to her seat and sat her down. I placed her ice cream in f
ront of her, along with her pink plastic spoon. I turned back around and walked over to the officer, reaching into my back pocket.

  “We may have you confused with someone else,” exclaimed the officer.

  “Oh, that’s cool. It happens all the time,” I said as I pulled out my wallet.

  I gave the officer my ID.

  He grabbed it, looked at it, and then he looked back at me.

  This happened several times over, so I went back to my seat. The officer was still double taking as I ate my ice cream.

  “Is everything okay?” I questioned.

  He held up his finger as he walked over to his partner.

  “What they doing, Daddy?” asked Bookie as she focused on digging into her ice cream.

  “I don’t know, honey.”

  The employee’s eyes wandered about the room.

  The officers spoke for a moment. Then, I saw the other officer look over his partner’s shoulder. He glared directly at me as I smiled back at him, the exact same way that I smiled on my license. I had practiced this for three years.

  He immediately looked back at the license.

  Bookie kicked her legs back and forth as she hammered into her ice cream. She’s got a bad habit of humming whenever she eats something tasty.

  Suddenly, the officer holding my ID took off to his patrol car. I thought about leaving, but I couldn’t. That would be too obvious.

  “Your order’s ready, sir,” said the employee.

  The officer continued to look at me as he walked over to get his ice cream.

  I glanced over to the officer outside in the patrol car. He appeared to be gathering some information. Then, he stepped out of his patrol car and looked over the parking lot for a minute.

  “Daddy! I’m going to beat you eating your ice cream,” shouted Bookie.

  “You gonna get a brain freeze too,” I retorted.

  Suddenly, the other officer approached our table.

  “Hiiii!” screamed Bookie.

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Helloooo!” Said the officer.

  “You want to eat your ice cream with us?” Bookie asked.

  “Aw, I would, but we’re sort of on duty,” said the perplexed officer.

  Bookie sighed.

  “What’d you do?” Asked the officer as he stared deep into my eyes.