Prissy Krissy Pt. 04

As soon as I reached Krissy's stoop, my stomach twisted. I'd spent all day at work anticipating this moment. Now, something about that dark green door, the brass knocker, it all seemed to warn of what was inside.

It was hard to square that trepidation with my excitement for what was certain to come. I'd gotten to actual orgasm with Krissy Thompson and it seemed likely that I might again. Not to mention the near-certain reappearance of Krissy's tremendous two-some. Maybe this time we could even take our pants off completely.

But that was also the problem. Everything was so hurried; ridden with anxiety and fear. Excitement twinned with risk could be fun, but at that moment it felt more desperate than desirous. Just the thought of Mrs. Thompson's scrutinizing gaze made me feel ill instead of aroused.

So, when Krissy opened the door, I didn't jump through the threshold with the enthusiasm of man granted access to something excellent and exclusive. It felt more like the crossing of the condemned.

"Let's go back to my place," I said, suddenly. Again, I don't know where these words came from. Only that they seemed to show up at the most opportune moments.

Krissy froze. She eyed me like I'd asked her to take her tits out in front of the entire neighborhood. I could practically see the 'no' forming on her lips.

"We can shut the doors there," I said, "Not that it matters, because no one's home."

Krissy's face shifted as sure as a sunbeam breaking through a storm. A little smirk formed on her pink lips.

"Mom, I'm going over to Jacob's!" she yelled out. We left before anyone could respond.

We raced across the lawns, holding hands like we were in some pre-teen, PG romance movie. I unlocked the front door, and we tumbled inside. At that hour, with the house completely quiet, it had a strange, almost austere quality.

Krissy stopped in the living room, taking it in. I saw my home through her eyes. The modern art on the walls, the collection of little glass frogs on the mantel. The tan couches, elegant coffee table, and green, Persian rug.

All the time we'd spent together as kids, I realized, Krissy had never come over to our house. We'd only ever gone to hers. She eyed my Jesus-free walls nervously, like they might collapse on her at any second.

I decided to take her mind off things with a kiss. It was the right call. Krissy let herself melt into me. We slowly made out as we made our way up the stairs. Back to my bedroom. I made a show of closing the door behind me, clicking it shut.

Krissy sat down on my bed, expectantly. Hands folded in her lap. Blue eyes flitting around the room. Again, absorbing this strange place.

I had a very 'boy' room, an almost exact antithesis to Krissy's. My furniture was black, my carpet grey. My sheets were white with silver stripes. My walls adorned with posters of Don Mattingly and Phil Simms. I had a big sound system in the corner (a high school graduation gift) and I put in the tape for Chicago's Greatest Hits -- my go to make-out album from college.

Krissy was clearly, still, uncomfortable. I used the one tool I had to distract her. I kissed her lips and reached for her sweater. Krissy limply raised her arms and let me extricate her from the green top. Her bra was black, and I snapped it off. She seemed surprised I could accomplish such a dexterous feat.

Her cute, pink peaches popped free. The girl might have been nervous, but her body was clearly eager. Her little nipples were almost scarlet with arousal.

I returned to kissing her and, this time, Krissy responded. She unbuttoned my light blue work shirt and pulled it off. Then she reached down and, to my surprise, unbuckled my khaki slacks. I found myself standing in front of her in only my navy-blue boxers. They tented out lewdly. The blonde girl stared at my protuberance for a moment, her face featureless.

We fell back onto my bed. It was a platform and so not all that forgiving. But we bumped and bounced against each other as well as we could. I suckled at Krissy's sweet titties. She ran her hands over my back and legs.

Again, though, I focused on what was covered instead of enjoying what I'd already exposed. I reached for Krissy's jeans and pushed them down her legs. She whimpered but didn't stop me as I dumped her denim onto my bedroom floor.

I'd fantasized so much about getting her out of those tight pants. Of watching the fabric stretch around her thighs, over her knees, past her pink, painted toes. It didn't disappoint. Krissy's butt, even in her forest green panties, looked amazing. Far rounder and fuller than she should have been able to achieve. Her pink thighs and skinny calves were equally entrancing.

And even better, the thought of what was hiding underneath her underwear. Krissy's panties were too dark to show a wet spot, but I swore I could smell the tang of her arousal. Could feel the heat of her sex radiating from under that thin cloth.

We fell into each other. I ground down on Krissy's crotch. She spread her legs, welcoming. Settling into the rhythm of the day before like we'd been rehearsing for decades.

But I didn't want to blow just yet. I stopped and kissed my way down Krissy's body. There was yet another layer of clothes that could come off. I reached down for the waistband of her underwear. Her hand shot out and held me.

"No," she said, not unkindly. Firm but not cruel. Almost pleading, if I'm honest.

"I want to make you feel good," I said.

Krissy thought about it for a moment. "OK."

I reached my hand for her underwear again. Krissy kept her hand on mine. I slipped my fingers under her panties but didn't pull them down. She let me do it without complaint.

I felt the fur of her pussy, then heat and wetness. Slippery, wanting flesh. Using only my hand was hard, but I felt my way through.

My ex might have been insane, but I'd learned from her. I knew what to do with my digits. What spots to hit and when. Every woman is her own puzzle, but I'd learned how to search out the solution.

Krissy squirmed, nervous, as I felt at her folds. It occurred to me that she'd never been touched there. I took my time, gently teasing, letting her get used to the sensations. With the underwear trapping my hand, it was hard to be nimble, but I did my best.

Finally, I felt Krissy's body tense in a different, more exciting way. I slowly rubbed the pad of my finger around till I felt the nub of her pleasure. She let out a little gasp. A squeak. I took my time, applying different approaches, till I found the combination of pressure, speed, and motion that made Krissy crumble.

Her hand gripped my forearm so tight, it hurt. Her blue eyes wide and searching. Her legs snapped up, tight. Arching, rising. Pink toes squeezed tight. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps. Her skin shone with sweat.

"Wha... what're you...?" Krissy's words were nonsense, but she wasn't stopping me.

I slipped the crook of my finger into Krissy's snatch. She sucked in her breath hard, like she had been underwater for hours. Her face contorted -- her lips curling up in an odd, pre-orgasmic sneer. Nostrils flared. Her neck muscles went tight. Her head dropped back.

I plunged with my pointer while I rubbed Krissy's clit with my thumb. Her gasps got desperate. Those perfect breasts shook with every sharp, short gulp. She froze. Her back arched. Krissy's eyes rolled back in her head. Shook. Shuddered.

"Oh my God," the words escaped her lips. Her gorgeous, innocent face froze in a crooked, half-grin. Everything about her went taut. Krissy grabbed my wrist and held me in place.

Then she released. Like sinking into liquid, Krissy's whole body unwound. She lay back, panting. The flush of her body slowly rolled back to neutral. After a moment, she carefully extricated my hand from her pussy. I pulled it back, sticky with her essence. The urge to smell, to lick, was overwhelming. But I held back, not knowing how she'd react.

Finally, Krissy's eyes fluttered open, and she gave me a weak smile.

"Wow," she said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

Krissy pulled me to her, roughly, and kissed me. It wasn't clumsy or desperate like usual. Instead, it was suffused with confidence. Passion. Krissy kissed me like she actually liked me. With a want, a desire, I'd never thought she was capable of.

"Oh yeah," Krissy said. For a second, I thought she was about to curse, but she didn't.

We lay on my bed in silence for a while. Both of us breathing hard. It felt oddly comfortable to be together like this.

I heard the rumble of the garage door under us. Someone had come home.

"Jessica," I said to Krissy. The blonde woman nodded. She remembered my younger sister, her former friend from the old days, of course.

Though there was no way Jess would knock on my door, let alone interrupt us, Krissy hurried to get dressed. It was cute, watching her stumble as she pulled on her pants. She broke into little giggly grins whenever she caught me glancing her way.

"Stop it," Krissy said, playful.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me that way," Krissy said.

"OK," I said, and gave her googly eyes instead.

Since Krissy was putting on her clothes, I assumed she wanted me to do the same. My dick was so hard, tucking it back into my khakis was almost impossible, but I did my best. Once we were both decent (or as decent as we were going to be, anyway) we went downstairs.

We found Jessica in the kitchen. My sister was eating a plum from the fridge, the open door resting on her elbow. Her green eyes goggled when she saw Krissy come into the room.

"Hi," Krissy said, shyly.

Jessica was short, barely five one, with light brown hair and a round face. She had on a dark t-shirt and mesh shorts. Her skin was reddish-brown from a day spent in the sun. She was eighteen and about to start college in the fall. Yet my sister still seemed so young to me.

I offered Krissy something to eat, but she shook her head.

"I should be heading home," Krissy said.

I walked her to the door. I swear, I could feel my little sister's eyes on my back the entire time. I gave Krissy a short peck on the lips.

"Tomorrow?" Krissy asked. That one word so pregnant with possibility.

"It's Friday so I'm working four to close. I could come by early in the day," I said.

Krissy's lips twisted. I think she was hoping to keep our regular schedule.

"It's the same thing on Saturday," I said, "Sunday?"

"I have church," Krissy said, "I volunteer after. You could come with me?"

I gave her a look that made it clear I would not be spending my time (and one of my precious days off) in the presence of the Lord. Let alone under the withering glare of Krissy's parents.

"Monday," I said, "I'll come to your house after my morning shift."

Krissy nodded. She made the 'phone' sign with her hand to her ear, letting me know we'd talk in between. We shared another quick, chaste kiss, then broke apart.

"Holy shit," Jessica said, as I closed the door. I hadn't even noticed my sister come up behind me. "How'd you pull that off?"

"It's... I don't know what it is," I said, "It's weird."

"I'd imagine she's the kind of girl that likes to twist your balls really hard," Jessica said. I goggled at my little sister. I wasn't used to her speaking so explicitly.

"Nothing like that," I said, "She's actually kind of sweet."

"I find that hard to believe," Jessica said. She ran her fingers through her short, wavy hair, thoughtfully. "Still though. Prissy Krissy. I gotta say, I'm kind of impressed."

"Thanks?" I said.

My sister shrugged and went off to her room, shaking her head. Like I'd just shown her the leprechaun I'd caught in our backyard.