My fingers work into her grooves, spiders moving delicately over weaved webs of flesh. Her rings mark her, revealing when it’s rained, where she’s cracked in droughts. I shouldn’t be doing this, I know. Her mouth captures, surrounding my nipple in warmth, making me pant. Thick fingers dryly enter me, thrusting. Closing my eyes, I let my mind replace what I know is missing. I whisper softly, as always, that this will be last time. It doesn’t matter. We both know I’m lying.

* * * * *

I’d never seen a red this bright. It scares me. I try and remember that I knew this was going to happen, how I’ve talked about it, read about it, joked about it. It’s doesn’t feel the same when I touch the spreading stain, when I stare at my finger, when I know it came from my body. 

“Junior?”

It’s her voice that does it. Even my hand can’t stop my sob. It explodes, drawing her, panicking, into the bathroom’s harsh light. We stare at each other and I watch her mouth open, but I can’t hear her words. But suddenly she’s there and my face is pressed against her neck. She’s holding me, telling me it’s okay…that I’ll be okay. Leaning, she turns the facet on, filling the tub. My face blushes when she lifts my shirt over my head. I hate the rise of my chest, I feel swollen, sore. Settling into warm water, I hear her rummaging, searching through my room. My silent frown meets each raised selection. Finally, my drawers slam closed. “I don’t think they’re clean, junior.” Her sigh is dramatically long. I know if I look up her hands will be resting lightly on each hipbone, her lips stretched into a thin, pink line. Smiling, I lean back, letting the water cover my face, listening to echoing footsteps as she leaves.

I pretend not to hear plastic tearing, the sound of a paper strip peeling away, to see her hands touching my panties. Wordlessly, she grabs a towel, holds it out. I step into her arms and let her hold me again. “Dry off good, okay?” Her smile is contagious and I fight hard to keep a matching grin from my face. Her fingers are in my curls and then her lips and I hug tighter, closing my eyes. Sometimes I dream, I look like her, all blonde and blue and beautiful. “Hey, baby…its okay.” She pulls me back to kiss my nose before holding up her bundle. “See. I found them.” This time I don’t try to hide my smile.