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Crystal's Persuasion 6
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story Copyright (C), 1993 by the Flying Pen. Redistribution via
electronic means as well as a single hard copy is permitted, as long as
1) this message is included; 2) the text is not altered in any way
NOTE: Since I now have means to transmit directly to the net via the anon
server, feedback is extremely welcome.
WARNING: This story contains sex between consenting heterosexuals of different
races, and lots of "filler." It is part of a work in progress, and concerns
the development of a relationship from sexual enlightenment. For reasons of
brevity, I have omitted most of the bumps that most relationships endure. If
you find this and "dirty" words offensive, then please do yourself a favor
and skip this article.
THIS SPACE LEFT BLANK INTENTIONALLY
Exit Crystal, Enter Pam
The formality took place ten days later. I saw Crystal for the first
time since the end of dinner, when she stopped at my place Thursday
night. She had cut her hair, wearing it in a sensible, conservative,
straight, business-style which stopped just above her shoulders. She was
wearing the same floral print dress she had worn when I first met her.
"Ummm... hi. I'm sorry, butmyfolkstookmetoBarbadoswiththemand..." I
motioned for her to come in, which interrupted her diarrhetic speech.
"Ummm... I'm kind of in a hurry," she said.
She hesitated, and I broke in. "Look, we both know what you're going
to say, so why don't you just come in and say it. Then you can leave."
Somewhat testily, I added, "Or don't you trust me anymore?"
Crystal lowered her head, trying not to look at me. The county girl
that had vanished a while ago had returned, and stood before me.
Everything was as it had been, including the ridiculous amount of makeup
she used to wear. "I... ummm... guess I like you, Don, but, ummm...
like, it's not good to have a relationship based on... ummm... ummm...
sex. Itjustwouldn'twork." Crystal spit the last sentence out in a
bigger hurry than usual, as if it was a distasteful thing she had to do.
Suddenly, surprisingly, she raised her head, and looked me dead in the
eye. "Please... don't hate me. I won't ever forget you. I'm sorry,
but..." The words just hung there. Finally, Crystal said, "I gotta go,
I have a date."
"Goodbye, Cryssie," I said quietly, sadly, closing the door slowly on
her. So, I was single again. No big deal. Why did I feel abandoned?
Fortunately, the band's schedule went into overdrive, leaving no time to
brood. We started playing four nights a week, which meant that three
nights were reserved for getting rest.
"I heard you broke up with her," Pam said, patting me sympathetically.
It had been two weeks, and I hadn't really dealt with it, except to
ignore it.
I shrugged stoically. "It just wasn't meant to be, Pam, but I hear
that things are going well for you." She had been going out with
somebody now for a couple of months, and had seemed real happy about it.
It wasn't anything I didn't already know, but it did let me change the
subject, and I tuned out Pam's enthusiastic response, nodding blankly as
the words flew on by.
The next time we played at that club, Pam was drinking heavily after
work. "Men SUCK!" she loudly announced to those of us who were left in
the club. "I hate them! They lie to you, then they go fuck some OTHER
cunt!!!" The owner told her to take Saturday off, and Pam ordered
another double shot. The bartender cut her off and tried to calm her
down. Pam grabbed her purse, and loudly proclaimed that she was going to
go somewhere else where they'd serve her and fuck all of you and... Of
course, she promptly fell, but I was there to catch her.
"You're not going anywhere but home. You're too drunk to drive, so
I'm going to take you home and let you..."
Pam slapped me -- _hard_. "Why? So you can fuck me and leave too?"
She pulled out of my grasp and staggered into the side of the bar,
bouncing and almost falling again. I put her back on her unsteady feet
once more, and grabbed her arms.
"I'm taking you home, so you don't hurt yourself any more than you
already have, understand?" I growled, aware that her alcohol-induced
hysteria would go away sometime within the next four hours. "I will not
take no for an answer, this is not open for discussion, got it?" Yeah, I
was pissed, but only Pam could have gotten away with hitting me the way
she had. My cheek still stung, and I dug my hands into her arms a little
harder than I had to. The remaining people in the club were aware of the
somewhat unique relationship Pam and I currently shared, so they all just
watched the drama unfold. "And, yes, I accept your apology, bitch, but
this is the last time you'll ever do something like that to me."
The last sentence seemed to take the fight out of her. Somewhere
through the fog, she realized exactly what she had done, and whom she had
done it to. Pam got all mushy, slurring apologies, hanging on me the way
drunk people do because they have no muscle tone, and I eased her out the
door, much to everybody's relief.
When we got to her apartment, she invited me in. "No. I'm not much
for drunken grudge fucks, Pam. You know that," was my response.
Frankly, she was just a little bit repulsive at that moment. Pam got out
of the car and begged. Loudly. I sighed, and gave in to keep her from
waking the whole neighborhood. "But, we are _not_ going to have sex," I
warned her sternly.
Pam gave me a hot, wet kiss and fondled my crotch as soon as her front
door had closed. She stroked the erogenous zones on my neck and head,
knowing from experience how to turn me on. I gave up my futile
resistance. She had gone from drunken and repulsive to drunken, but
incredibly hot and willing in a span of three minutes or so. And me
without my Crystal safety net. I just _knew_ I'd hate myself in the
morning. Pam staggered back to her bedroom (good thing it was a
straight, relatively uncluttered line from the living room), pulling me
along behind her. We flopped onto the bed, kissing as we had many times
several months earlier, when I suddenly got an idea. I began to massage
her back, firmly, but caringly, under the guise of removing her clothes.
I managed to get out of her reach, and started kneading her delicious
back.
Pam caught on. I knew from experience that a moderately firm back
massage could put Pam on the edge of sleep. "Ohhh... nooo... _fuck_...
meee," she protested, voice thick and slurred, but it was too late. My
massage had its usual effect on her. Aided by the alcohol, Pam was
asleep (passed out?) about a minute later. I went to sleep next to her
fully dressed, contemplating the irony of it all; I had just given a sexy
blonde a back rub to get her out of the mood, and stay _out_ of her
pants. "Damn," I thought, "can't I get _anything_ right?"
Pam was extremely hung over the next day. She asked me to stay, so I
comforted her as best I could while she told me what had caused last
night's incident. Pam had walked in on Bill, her (now ex-) boyfriend
Thursday night after work, and caught him fucking somebody else. "I
wasn't supposed to come over after I left the club, but I thought I'd
surprise him," she sniffled.
"You deserve better anyway, Pam," I said, hugging her and kissing her
lightly on the forehead. "Now go back to bed, turn off the lights, and
sleep it off. Dave gave you the night off," I said quietly. Pam didn't
remember, but she was relieved to hear it. She went back in the bedroom,
so I left and got ready for Saturday night's show. About ten minutes
before close, Pam walked into the club.
"I had to come get my car," she explained as I started to load the
equipment. Stopping me, she said quietly, "Come over when you get done."
I hadn't heard her use that voice in a long time. An hour later, Pam was
kissing her way down my naked body. She spent a lot of time at my
nipples, alternately using her tongue, and nipping at them. She would
stop and suck on them for a little while before resuming her aggressive
foreplay. She remembered how to send me into orbit. "Lie still," she
instructed in a whisper. "Let me do _everything_ tonight, Don." Pam
rubbed my swollen penis gently, then ran her tongue around it.
She played with my erection for a while, interrupting her wet blowjob
with long enough pauses to keep me in suspense. After Pam decided she
was done with that, she ran her tongue slowly from the bottom of my
balls, along the underside of my cock, right to the tip. Then she
flicked her tongue in and around the opening. My cock bobbed
impatiently. Pam sat up and removed her oversized band tee-shirt, and
let me gaze at her naked perfect body, with its smooth curves, firm,
perfectly formed and proportioned breasts, and the downy blonde hair that
glistened with reflected moisture. Her taut, well-muscled thighs were
also slightly damp. My eyes feasted upon her, sexual hunger replacing
every thought. Pam spread her legs, and masturbated herself on my
erection, gliding her wet triangle over my aching cock.
"Pa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ammmm," I groaned. She smiled, stopped her aided
masturbation, and lifted my cock at the base, pointing it straight up,
then positioned herself over it. My cock touched the entrance to
ecstasy, but Pam pushed at my chest with her other hand, so I lay still,
touching, but not passing through that entrance. Pam smiled at me,
silent, no mischief in her eyes, for an eternity; then she eased my cock
into her, sitting down with excruciating deliberation, until she landed
on my hips with a contented purr. Yes, it was worth the wait, and
getting there had been half the fun. She moved her hips leisurely and
closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips, kneading my chest gently
with her fingers, while her tropical walls kneaded my long-ignored (since
Crystal) cock. I was really close to the point of no return. I gasped
her name. She opened her eyes, regarding me dreamily. I wasn't wearing
a rubber, I realized in shock. Pam just smiled, kneaded my cock a little
more vigorously with her inner walls, and I no longer cared as my
friend/lover firmly pushed a finger just below my asshole.
The loud noise I made was cut off by Pam's kiss, as she explored my
mouth lovingly while my toes curled; I hadn't told Crystal about my "cum
switch," as Pam had named it. Pam sat down as hard as she could,
grinding against me, keeping me from bucking, kissing me constantly. She
continued her gentle hidden massage of my softening cock, prolonging my
orgasm well past the end of ejaculation, sending me to nirvana.
Pam leaned forward again and wrapped her arms around me. "Sleep with
me," she commanded in a gentle whisper, my erection returning as she
massaged my cock inside her. She rubbed her body, warm and slick with
sweat, against mine, adorning my body with gentle brushes of her lips,
purring, and making quiet, soothing noises. I had again become erect;
she still held me inside her, but I was very sleepy. Pam's gentleness,
and soothing aura overwhelmed my desire, and I slept, deep and dreamless.
Pam and I became lovers again, for a week. Sometimes she'd give as
she had that first night, other times the apartment would echo with her
joyful cries as I ministered to her needs and desires. We buried our
pain and our frustration under sheer physical pleasure. Our knowledge of
each other's bodies, and skill at manipulating each other's senses made
it easy. Our crazed hedonistic games ended the following Sunday, after
we spent the whole afternoon thrusting animalistically at one another.
Her anger and hurt over Bill, and my frustrations about Crystal had
vanished in the addictive haze of great sex. "I love you, Don," Pam said
as I got ready to leave her home that night. "I think you understand
what I mean," she finished.
"Yeah, baby doll, I do. If you ever need anything, let me know. I
promise that I will do whatever I can to make it better for ya," I
answered, knowing that she would do the same for me. We hugged for a
long time before I walked out the door. I have not had sex with Pam
since that afternoon; we don't talk about that week at all. Pam and I
are -- intimately linked, without being lovers, much to the awe of people
who only know one of us. They don't understand why we don't get married.
We know it wouldn't work, and some things are too good to risk on
overexposure.
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