Crystal Clear Ch. 30

When I set Crystal down, she started to snore with loud irregular snorting noises. I watched as Ellen and Claire started to strip off Crystal's smelly clothing, carefully depositing each of the items in a large plastic trash bag. I made a mental note to wash the clothes tonight so I had something to do that would take my mind off the real crisis.

As Crystal's jeans got pulled off, Ellen and Claire jerked their heads around to look at me: one had a worried expression, and the other a look of horror. Their sudden reactions made me take a step forward and look at what they'd just seen. Crystal wore no underwear, not even her usual thong, and she had a copious amount of cum dripping from her vagina and ass, and two hickeys just above her slit. Crystal's carefully manicured runway of pubic hair was covered in semen. Her jeans were soaked in the sticky and gooey effluent that still oozed from inside her. Around her neck and breasts, she had a several other hickeys as well as several visible loads of cum that had partially dried before she'd put her blouse and bra on over the cum shots. Given the length of time she'd been away from the house and her sexual condition, she must have orchestrated some sort of gang bang with more than just a few sex partners.

I shook my head and reeled back from the discovery. Tears came to my eyes, and try as I might I couldn't blink them away. I felt as though someone drove a knife through my heart and then pummeled my gut into oblivion. I started to sob uncontrollably. I turned, ran to the master bedroom, and threw myself into my pillow to cry for a long while.

I didn't sleep all night. For a while, I just lay there in the darkness numb over what had happened -- maybe what I'd let happen over the past couple of months. I thought of all the reasons I was to blame. Ellen had come to bed with me and tried to comfort me, but all we did was hold each other and cry. Neither of us bothered to get undressed.

We were up early in the same clothes we'd worn the day before. Staying in bed didn't make any sense since we were awake. Ellen, Claire, PJ, and I were having coffee at the kitchen counter when Crystal appeared. She avoided eye contact with us, and made a beeline for the coffee pot and her favorite cup. The room was deathly silent, almost as though none of us wanted to breathe. The four of us watched her and wondered what would happen next.

Without looking at us, Crystal muttered, "I guess I really fucked up, huh?"

Ellen was the first to respond, her voice rising to a scream, "Yes, you did, ... SLUT! How many guys did you fuck? How many? What the fuck were you on? Do you even remember?" There was no doubt but that Ellen was royally pissed at her sister. Her reply dripped with sarcasm and rage.

Crystal's head had jerked up at being called a slut by her younger sister. I'd had trouble throughout the night bringing myself to that conclusion, but Ellen's words just summarized the thoughts I'd been avoiding. I was weak emotionally from lack of sleep, although Crystal had apparently slept off the booze and the drugs. I guessed she might have a rotten headache. Although Claire and PJ had stayed in the room with her, trying to sleep in overstuffed chairs, I'd checked on Crystal multiple times throughout the night. Crystal's silence in response to Ellen's question spoke volumes.

I asked in a low voice, "Were you on drugs? Cocaine? Ecstasy?"

Crystal nodded slowly. She spoke in such a low voice we almost couldn't hear her, "I'm sorry. I just lost it."

I pushed, "What'd you do, go to some bar and orchestrate a gang bang for yourself?"

Crystal sobbed, but nodded in the affirmative. She said, "I'm sorry" about a dozen times in the long silence that followed.

Claire finally couldn't stand the silence and Crystal's delicate crying; she lit into her too, "You should be sorry, but that doesn't come close to making up for what you did to us -- especially to Jim. God, how could you go out and whore around; you fucked around on your boyfriend with strangers. Are you out of your fucking mind? I've seen this movie before -- many times in my past: drugs with increasing frequency, indiscriminate sex, and even gang bangs because that's all that satisfies you -- lots of cock, lots of drugs, and then more and more of the same, because those orgasms are really spectacular when you're high. I've even seen friends get a DUI just the way you did last night -- even full of booze, ecstasy, and coke after fucking every male they could lay their hands on, guys whose names they didn't even know because it felt good ... and, as you put it, 'it was fun.' That's exactly what you did, didn't you? I thought I left that all behind me when I hooked up with you and left the porn and escort business."

Crystal sobbed but nodded in answer to the question Claire had posed. My stomach turned again seeing Crystal admit that she'd done exactly what Claire had outlined - drugs, booze, unprotected sex with people she didn't know. What could she have been thinking?

PJ came and put her arms around me from behind in a gesture I knew she meant to be reassuring, but at this point my heart was shattered and lay in a million pieces around us. Tears flowed uncontrollably from my eyes. If I'd eaten anything substantial I would have lost it, so it was only bile that bubbled up from the pain in my gut.

Claire continued her angry rant, "I know we've been loose around each other sexually, but we've kept our circle of intimate friends small and exclusive, yet so long as everything was above board we seemed ready to have some new playmates sometimes. Your fucking around outside of those rules and outside of our circle makes you a pariah -- A FUCKING PARIAH; none of us want to touch you until you get a clean bill of health. You probably have some dire STD -- that's what would happen in my old days when someone would do what you did last night. Fuck, Jim may never want to touch you again, and I'm not sure I do. Babe, you really fucked up, and fucked up bad. ACTING slutty is one thing and fun on some occasions -- we've all done it, BEING a slut as you were last night and only you know how many other times is another. Drugs or not, it's inexcusable."

Ellen picked up the tirade on her sister, "I know Jim asked for you to stop the drugs; we all knew and hoped his plea would have some affect on you. Did you think he was just making some lighthearted request of you? He doesn't want a druggie as a girlfriend. I don't want a druggie as a sister. Mom and Dad don't want an alcoholic druggie as a daughter. Jim loves you ... or he loved you up until last night, or maybe earlier when you started using drugs, and whenever it was you started to just indiscriminately fuck around. Last night when we undressed you -- to get your vomit covered clothes off, you had the cum from a dozen men dripping from your cunt, ass, and the rest of your body. You were covered in the shit. You kept telling us that it was all 'just fun' -- fun for you, but not for any of us. You violated every trust JIM had in you -- that WE had in you. You are one STUPID FUCKING BITCH." Ellen yelled the last words at her sister at a rage; she clenched her fists and stomped her feet. She probably would have slugged Crystal if we hadn't been there to restrain her.

Crystal cringed and again sobbed, "I'm sorry. I ... I just let things get away from me."

Ellen said, "How could you keep things together for over thirty years, and NOW let it all fucking fall apart? What's happened to you? I mean the only time you've seemed to really be happy in the past few months is when you're on coke or ecstasy and have three cocks in your body. At first, it was maybe fun and different -- a kink, but now, NO FUCKING WAY! THAT's not romantic or even sexually exciting on the steady diet you've been craving. Sister, you are in deep, deep shit. You just shot yourself in the foot -- a wound you may never recover from, because what you've done has changed you forever ... and it's changed how we see you from this moment forward. WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?"

Crystal looked up at me with her tears, blotchy complexion, and humiliated expression. I could only shake my head. I felt speechless; I could think of nothing to say to her.

I had tears running down my face. Claire and Ellen were right. I'd been right. I felt torn in half. I wanted to go and hold Crystal and tell her I forgave her and that everything would be OK. I wanted to turn and walk away and never see her again. I wondered whether I ever could see her in the same loving way I had up until the fuck ups she'd done the prior night -- up until the drugs that she'd been doing for months. I wondered how many other times she'd been out screwing around -- having her 'friends' help her find some pinnacle of pleasure in an illicit orgasm in the backroom of some gin mill.

At that instant, I couldn't look at Crystal any longer. Abruptly, I turned and walked out of the room. My brain was dead. My life was dead. My stomach ached. My chest felt as though someone had driven a railroad tie through it. The light in my life had gone out. I stood in the driveway and sobbed. I had to get away. I had to clear my head. I had to find a way through this mire.

I went into the garage and pulled the cover off my motorcycle. I didn't even put a helmet on; I just drove out of the garage, down the driveway, and into the street. I wasn't sure where I'd go I just went. I headed west.

I stayed on back roads, and after a few of hours I was surprised when I found myself at the end of a dead end street overlooking the Mississippi River. I parked the bike, walked down to the water's edge, and then cried for an hour. I felt such a sense of loss. I grieved. I hurt -- real pain inside me, mostly in my chest and abdomen, as though I'd been punched many times really hard.

My cellphone rang a dozen times in my pocket, but I just ignored it. I lost all track of time except to be aware that I'd started in the morning, and suddenly the slanting rays of the sun indicated to me it was mid afternoon. Suddenly, I looked around. I had no idea where I was or how far I'd ridden -- over a hundred-and-fifty miles since this was the Mississippi River.

I gave a huge sigh, fired up the motorcycle, found the Interstate and headed home in a lot less time than it had taken me to travel to the river. Now and again, I could feel my cellphone vibrating in my pocket. I didn't want to talk to anyone -- I couldn't talk to anyone. I knew I'd break out in uncontrollable sobs and any attempt at communication would be lost.

I pulled the bike into the garage at the house. I wondered what had transpired after I left in the morning. I knew the others had heard the bike pull into the driveway; Harley's aren't exactly quiet.

I walked into the kitchen, and knew something was wrong. Ellen and I looked at each other with forlorn expressions. Claire stood beside her with her shoulders slumped. Their eyes were red; they'd been crying all day. Tears still ran down their cheeks. Ellen came and put her arms around me as her face scrunched up, and she began to sob. She stammered out, "She's gone."

I held her and asked, "What? What do you mean?"

Ellen snuffled and got ahold of herself enough to explain through choked words that came out haltingly, "After you left, Crystal disappeared into your bedroom and locked us out. We were worried but could hear her banging around in there, slamming cabinet doors and drawers. An hour later, she came out nicely dressed and with a suitcase. She seemed emotionless -- cold and hard; she didn't say a word to us -- wouldn't even look at us, just walked through the living room to the foyer and headed to the front door. A taxi had been come for her. As she went out the door, I blocked her way and asked where she was going. When she looked at me, she turned and saw Nadia, Claire, and PJ, and then she just broke out in uncontrollable sobbing. She kept crying, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry' over and over again. She got in the taxi -- still sobbing, and it drove away. We've tried to call her two-dozen times, but her cell just goes straight into voicemail; she's turned her phone off." Ellen sobbed into my chest."

"Fuck."

To be continued