Prissy Krissy Pt. 06

The next few days were the weekend, and so I spent them at work, completely consumed with ideas of what Krissy and I could do together. We'd reached a new level of intimacy and I couldn't wait to explore all the possible permutations. But with everything I was looking forward to, something else showed up that I hadn't been anticipating. Krissy got her period.

In some ways, the timing was perfect. The crimson wave had risen during the Friday before, so after a weekend where we hadn't seen each other at all, we were probably already close to the end. Further, even though I'd kept my cum far away from anyplace unsafe, I won't lie that I was a little relieved that Krissy stayed on schedule. We took Monday off completely, but when Tuesday afternoon came around, we were raring to go. Except our usual activities weren't an option.

I suggested going to a movie or hanging out around the house, but Krissy shot both down. I realized this was one of those times where she had only asked for ideas as a way of pretending to be polite and shut myself up.

"I think we should go to the pool," Krissy said.

See, I lied before: there was one other thing to do in town beyond go to church, get a haircut, or hit up the Blockbuster video. We had a community pool.

Built near the high school grounds, it had a large building for lockers and showers, two large pools (one for adults, one for kids), lots of lounge chairs, a playground, and a snack bar. In other words, it was a pretty impressive facility for such a small town. Most days, it seemed like almost everyone who lived in the area was out lounging in the sun, pausing occasionally to cool off in the water.

By the time I was in college, I'd pretty much outgrown the place. But my sister was working at the snack bar that summer and she told me she could get me in if I wanted. I'd told Krissy it was an option at one point, and I guess it had stuck in her mind.

"Can you do that?" I asked, "Swim while you're, you know?"

"Yes," Krissy said, disdainfully. "It's not a big deal."

Well, OK then.

We parked at the back of a very full lot and walked across the steaming pavement. I could already smell the chlorine wafting over us. Hear the shouts and squeals of little kids as they splashed and stumbled.

We made our way through the front gate and past the kid pool. The place was packed, and walking around avoiding the swarm of running, dripping kids was almost like an Olympic sport. I got the feeling Krissy was ready to punt one if they got too close.

We managed to make our way past the kid pool and up a slight incline to the adult area. Here it was quieter. Mostly elderly people napping in their chairs or doing long, slow laps.

There were a couple of open loungers on the far side, and we set up camp there. Krissy had on a cover-up, a robe that covered her from her wrists to right below her knees. She pulled it off and, I swear, time itself stopped to stare.

Krissy had on a red, one-piece swimsuit. It wasn't revealing in the least. It wouldn't have been considered revealing thirty years before. let alone then. It didn't matter. I stared, dumbfounded, at the beautiful blonde -- her body filling out that suit so perfectly.

Krissy tsked her tongue at me, breaking my thousand-mile stare. I took off my shirt and started rubbing on sunscreen.

"Can you get my back?" Krissy asked.

Oh fuck. I started to salivate just thinking about it.

It wasn't that big a deal, honestly. It was only the top of Krissy's back, and even that was barely exposed. But still, the chance to rub cream into that amazing body, I was enraptured.

"You want me to do your front, too?" I asked after I finished rubbing the sunscreen in.

Krissy turned and gave me a little slap on the shoulder. But then she took the bottle of lotion and did my back for me. I was surprised at how she seemed to luxuriate in running her hands on my body. Almost with the same reverence as I'd done for her.

Like I said before, I had a regular, boring boy body. Nothing to get excited about. My chest was broad and a bit hairy. I didn't have a gut, but I wasn't carrying a six-pack either. I had good legs -- muscular calves and strong thighs -- but who looks at those, really?

Krissy, though, seemed to enjoy me. I was pretty sure the entire pool was watching her do it, too, and wondering what I'd used as blackmail.

"I should have worn the other outfit," Krissy said, pouty. "Everyone's looking at me."

"I don't think the bathing suit is the problem," I said. Krissy gave me another glare, but she let it go.

Finally ready, we stepped into the water. It was cool, the perfect temperature on such a hot day, but it still took a bit to get used to it. After we both got acclimated, we did a few laps back and forth. Then we lazed about in the shallow end. It was cool and comfortable to sit. I barely felt the sun on my shoulders.

Krissy pinched her nose, took a deep breath, and dunked herself in the water. She came up gasping, hair dark with wet. Fuck she was so sexy.

She had been sure to keep things chaste this whole time. Except for the sunscreen, we didn't touch each other at all. But that wasn't something I was going to allow to continue.

When Krissy dunked herself the second time, I went with her. On the third, I reached out and grabbed one of her boobs. I heard her angry hiss through the water.

Once we were back above, I got a firm slap on the wrist and a dirty look. But whatever, it was worth it. Krissy went off to do more laps. I leaned against the wall. I was off in my own world when I felt something grip my dick.

I nearly leapt out of the pool. Then I looked down and saw the red, wriggling mirage of Krissy underwater. She popped up, grinning like a naughty schoolgirl.

"Serves you right," Krissy said. But if she thought that was punishment, then she'd missed the point.

By then, we were getting pretty pruney, so we climbed out to dry off on the loungers. Krissy reached into her purse and pulled out a book, something by John Grisham. I had a Robert Jordan and I did the same. I didn't think Krissy would be too pleased by my choice of swords and sorcery (too juvenile, according to her, as if legal thrillers were the height of maturity) and I hoped she wouldn't look too closely at the title.

I got involved in the book until a shadow crossed my vision. I looked up and saw a tall, broad-shouldered guy. He was well-muscled, his chest hairless. His dark black hair was wet from the pool, his sharp cheekbones dotted with freckles. The epitome of goyishe good looking.

It took me a moment before I realized I was looking at Brad Williams, a kid I'd gone to high school with. He'd been in Krissy's year, a bit of a basketball star (for whatever that was worth in our little town). He stood with his hands on his hips and grinned down at Krissy. He hadn't noticed me, at all.

The beautiful blonde girl shaded her eyes and stared up.

"Oh, hi Brad," she said. She looked back at her book.

For a reason I can't explain, I felt my chest tighten. I'd never gotten along with the jocks, duh, though I wasn't exactly bullied either. Just ostracized. And even then, Brad hadn't been in my class, so I'd never been bothered by him at all.

But there was some basic encoding in that moment that made me feel, I don't know, like I was trespassing. As if I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I'd managed to sneak my way in with a popular hot blonde girl, and now the jock was here to deliver the comeuppance for my crime.

I didn't say it made sense. But I felt the terror choke me all the same.

"Hey Krissy," Brad said, "It's good to see you. How's it going?"

"I'm fine," Krissy said, dismissive. OK, so that was her usual state with most people. But something about her seemed extra flippant. I wondered why.

Despite all her complaints about name calling at school, Krissy had absolutely been one of the popular girls. You don't look like that and have problems with other kids. Not in high school anyway. Brad would have been part of her usual social group. So why was she treating him like a cockroach she'd found on the floor? I was confused, but that didn't mean I also wasn't enjoying it.

"I'm doing good," Brad said, continuing on like nothing, "I'm starting at point for Hartford this year."

"Is that some kind of baseball thing?" Krissy asked. Goddamn, but it was fun to watch her eviscerate someone.

"Basketball," Brad said, "You look really good, you know? Really good."

He did nothing to hide that he was ogling her, his eyes running from her toes to her fingertips and everywhere in between. Lingering on all the best parts. I couldn't blame him. Krissy would look amazing in a potato sack -- that bathing suit was on another level entirely.

"You look like you," Krissy said, which sounded like nothing, but from her mouth it felt like the worst insult possible.

Brad kept going, though, and I couldn't tell if he was being intentionally stupid or actually. "A bunch of us are going down the shore this weekend. You should come. I bet you'd have a lot of fun."

Krissy didn't even bother to look up from her book. She cocked her eyebrow. "I should introduce you," she said, coolly, "This is Jacob."

I sat up and extended my arm for a handshake. Brad looked me off. I imagined that move worked pretty well on a basketball court. Again, I felt that weird churning in my stomach.

"Brad and I used to date," Krissy said. She let the words 'used to' drag out on her tongue.

I might be thick most of the time, but I caught my cue. And suddenly, all that nervousness dropped away. I don't know where the courage came from, honestly. Maybe it was Krissy's silent goading. But I said something I'd never dreamed I'd actually say. Beyond brash to full-on ballsy.

"Oh, Krissy told me all about you two," I said, "She said you never made her cum? Dude! Let me tell you, Krissy cums. She cums hard."

Krissy turned bright red. I don't think that was the retort she was looking for. But Brad's reaction was even better.

His jaw dropped. A few sounds tried to escape his throat, but they hung there, gurgling, over his tongue. Brad may have been as dumb as a rock, but he realized the problem I'd dropped him in. Whatever he said, his only options were to make me look better or make himself look worse. His smooth stripped down to sandpaper.

Brad stuttered for a second. Regrouped, then started again. Finally, he turned away.

"Fucking bitch," he grumbled.

I turned to look at Krissy. Her face was still redder than her swimsuit. But I could see the mirth sparkling behind her eyes. I gave her a shrug. As far as I was concerned, I'd solved the problem in the best way possible. Krissy might be embarrassed, but she wasn't going to be bothered by Brad again.

Krissy glared at me. I couldn't tell whether she was ready to put me on a pedestal or slam me onto a spike. Finally, she looked down at her book.

"I'm hungry," Krissy said from behind the pages, "Come and buy me an ice cream."

*

Krissy pulled on her cover-up, I put my t-shirt back on, and we made our way over to the snack shop. The building was on the far side of the pool, in a different section of the building that held the lockers.

I'm pretty sure Krissy was ready to move on from reunions at the pool, but she had another one waiting for her. My sister, Jessica, was working the front counter when we got there. Krissy startled as she saw her.

"Oh," Krissy said, "Hi." It was not an enthusiastic greeting.

"Hi Krissy!" Jessica replied, grinning goofily. She went up on her tippy toes and waved my way as well, giving me a wink.

My sister was so short, she looked like just a head with some shoulders behind the window. She was wearing a green, ringer t-shirt. Her brown, wavy hair was under a white ballcap with a bill that matched the shirt.

I got Krissy and I ice cream sandwiches and paid for them. There were tables nearby, so we found an empty one and ate. There's something magical about ice cream post-pool on a hot day. The perfect pairing.

After we were done, Krissy led me back past the tables, behind the playground, to a set of concrete shuffleboard courts. The area was surrounded by trees and completely empty. The condition of the painted numbers made it clear that people hadn't been back there in a while.

"Let's play," Krissy said, clapping her hands excitedly.

I was less enthused, remembering what had happened when we tried tennis a few weeks before. But Krissy wouldn't hear an argument, so I went back to the snack shack so I could rent the supplies. I resolved to tank the game on the way.

Jessica gave me the stuff, a bucket of pucks and two sticks, still grinning at me through the open window.

"Jacob and Krissy sitting in a tree..." she sang.

My sister was in a weird mood. I think days on end of dealing with demented kids and demanding parents was starting to scar her brain.

"Very cute," I said.

"Come on," Jessica said, "You have to admit it's crazy that you two are together."

"Ok, it's weird," I said, "But whatever. Can I go now?"

"Not until I get a high five from my main man," Jessica said. God but my sister was getting stranger by the day.

I brought the discs and poles back over to the shuffleboard area. Krissy was waiting with her arms folded. Clearly, I'd left her waiting for too long, but she didn't say anything about it. Instead, we laid out the equipment and started our game.

As I'd promised myself, I did my best to play poorly. But after a while, I got tired of letting Krissy trounce me. She was having a grand old time, and I guess I wanted to get her back a little. And maybe have some fun, as well. That red bathing suit was taunting me through the diaphanous layer of Krissy's cover-up.

And besides, I was feeling myself from before. Between telling off Brad and seeing my sister treat me like some kind of god for getting Krissy, I think the confidence got to my head. It's amazing how little it takes to feel like king of the world some days.

On my next shot, I knocked one of Krissy's discs out of position. She made an angry little snort when it happened, like a cartoon bull. What I did next only exacerbated the issue.

"Take something off," I told her.

"What?" Krissy said. She glanced around nervously. There was nothing nearby, and no one else was playing. Even the screams from the pool sounded muted. We were about as secluded as we could get.

"You lost the point," I said, "You need to pay." I rolled my wrist and gestured at her outfit.

Krissy's eyes went wide. "No," she said, but I could tell she was cracking.

"Lose a flipflop," I said, "I don't see the big deal."

Krissy grunted again, but she dutifully kicked off one of her sandals. The next round, I did it again. Now she was barefoot.

The blonde woman was actually less naked than she'd been over by the pool, but I could tell I was in her head now. She was marching back and forth, muttering to herself. She got it together for her turn though, and as her disc slid into the top of the triangle to win the set, she cheered. Then she gave me the same gesture to remove something. I nodded, smiled, and kicked off a sandal.

My bonhomie about all this only seemed to set Krissy off more. But she didn't stop playing. And the next time she took a round, she had me take off another sandal. But she glanced around, nervously, every chance she got. Like the foot police might pop over at any moment.

My shirt came off next. Honestly, we were in completely appropriate attire. We were at a pool in bathing suits, what could someone complain about? There was a fifty-year-old woman bronzing back by the pool in a bikini three sizes too small for her. If she was fine, we were more than in the clear.

But when I took the next set and Krissy had to take off her cover-up, I could tell she was anxious as all hell.

"I think we should call it a tie," Krissy said. Her competitive nature was smothered by her natural prudence.

"One more round," I said.

Krissy shuffled her cute feet back and forth. She bit her lip. Both of us were down to one article of clothing. And taking that off would be far more scandalous. But I wasn't going to let Krissy off the hook.

The last game was a pitched battle. Our scores went back and forth. It was pretty dramatic, you know, for a shuffleboard game between two amateurs at the community pool. But still.

On the last shot, I managed to slide my disc into the perfect place for the win. Krissy actually gasped as it stopped.

I did the little hand gesture, but the blonde woman shook her head, vehemently.

"I won't, Jacob," Krissy said.

I responded by repeating the gesture.

"I can't," Krissy said. Her voice a desperate whisper.

"Just one boob," I said.

Krissy took a deep breath. She closed her eyes. She knew she wasn't getting out of this with anything less. She pulled the shoulder strap of her bathing suit down, baring one of her perfectly-shaped tits. In a blink, it was covered again.

"Happy?" Krissy asked.

"Very," I replied.

That night, though, sitting in my bedroom, I felt this odd sense of vulnerability. Who exactly was I? And what the hell was I pretending at?

In the end, Brad did have a retort ready -- he could've punched me in the mouth. The fact that he didn't was more my luck than any great act of verbal wordplay. And pushing Krissy like that behind the pool was stupid. What was I getting out of any of this, honestly?

Again, I wondered at what I was up to. There were times where it truly felt like I was on autopilot. That I wasn't thinking at all. Just doing whatever came to my mind in the moment and then acting like it was my own cleverness when it came out OK. Instead of fantastic fortune.

So I was already in a sullen mood when Krissy called me that night. She seemed to be in the same place. I assumed she was stewing over everything that had happened that day.

"No, it's fine," Krissy said, "The stuff with Brad was hilarious. Watching him squirm. And the shuffleboard thing... It was cute. Kind of."

"So what's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," Krissy said far too quickly, "It's just, one of my parents' friends from church saw us by the snack shack and told my mom."

That sounded ominous. We'd been twisting ourselves around quite a bit to not get caught, only to now trip ourselves up.

"That sounds like more than nothing," I said.

"It'll be fine," Krissy said.

But her confidence only made my stomach twist harder.

*

The next day was a Wednesday, so I was off. Krissy told me she was still on her period, but she didn't want to go to the pool again. I wasn't surprised. I think her enthusiasm for that place was pretty much squeezed out of her.

Instead, I convinced Krissy to come to my house after camp, even though she was out of commission. She didn't seem all that enthused on the phone, but I guess something occurred to her on the way over, because she was giddy as a puppy by the time I opened the door.

I found out pretty quickly what had Krissy all in a tizzy. After we stumbled into my room, kissing and stripping in a crazed, horny hurricane, Krissy pushed me back onto the bed. She knelt down in front of me. Wearing only her bra and panties.

"I want to suck him," Krissy told me. Her eyes darted away from mine, like even she couldn't believe she'd said it.

I was too shocked to respond. I won't lie, I'd already spent a significant amount of time conniving to convince Krissy to give me a blowjob. For her to come out and request it was like the best Chanukah ever. And in the middle of June, no less.

But I was also taken aback. Where was the cute, conservative girl talking about her 'hoo-hah?' Apparently, I'd slain her, and a succubus had showed up to take her place. It was kind of wonderful, but also a bit scary. Like everything we did, it seemed.