Prissy Krissy Pt. 07

Krissy came over the next day, after work, and got right to it. She didn't even wait till we were in my bedroom, she just shoved me back onto the hallway stairs. Krissy fished my dick out of the fly of my khakis and gulped it down, giggling the whole way. Not for the first time, I was very glad the house was empty.

It wasn't exactly comfortable, lying across a flight of steps. My back hurt for days afterward, and I twisted my knee when Krissy tackled me. In the moment, I didn't care. I'd let this new, enthusiastic woman throw me anywhere.

Again, I don't know what it was about oral that got her so excited. Giving me a blowjob was exceptionally lewd; submissive yet also controlling. Sick, dirty, and obnoxiously sexual. OK --actually, maybe I've answered my own question.

Eventually, I managed to bring Krissy back to my bedroom where she finished off my blowjob. I lay down on the itchy, grey carpet while the blonde woman bobbed up and down. Her tongue pressed to the bottom of my cock. Saliva dripping down my balls. Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.

When I felt myself close to cumming, I moved my hands to Krissy's shoulders. I remembered her request from the day before and I didn't want to take advantage.

"Nuh uh," Krissy said. She kept her mouth on my dick.

"I'm getting close," I said, thinking that maybe I wasn't clear.

"Uh huh," Krissy said. She only redoubled her efforts.

A moment later, I was gone. The pleasure grabbed hold of me and squeezed, dumping out an ocean of endorphins while I streamed sperm into Krissy's mouth. My vision went white.

Krissy made a choking noise, but she kept her mouth firmly wrapped around my cock. On the second blast, she began to gulp it all down. As I slowed, she licked slowly around my dick, like trying to suck up every last drop of my spend.

She pulled off with a loud, satisfied sigh. A bit of sperm had managed to escape, giving her a bit of a 'milk' goatee. Krissy looked so sexy, I leaned up to kiss her. But she pushed me back. She licked her lips clean, shaking her head.

I was tingling, num,b with the bliss of what Krissy had done for me. It was beyond the orgasm itself. The whole experience was inescapably wondrous. I knew I needed to give as good as I got (again, my ex had been a terrible girlfriend but a wonderful teacher). I pushed Krissy onto her back.

She was fully clothed -- we really had just fallen into this. I reached for Krissy's jeans and unsnapped them. Still, it felt so incredible to be able to take off that tight denim. Forcing it down to her knees, exposing every inch of once-concealed glory. Krissy was wearing pink panties. We'd reached the point in our relationship where I recognized the pair. I started to pull them down, to lower my head between her legs.

Oh, to taste Krissy's sweet little peach. I couldn't wait. The fact that it was so hairy didn't bother me one bit. In fact, it kind of added to the allure. Probing through her deep forest for the fountain of wonder within. Already I could smell her arousal and I salivated.

Krissy shoved my head back, forcefully. I looked at her, confused.

"I thought your period was finished," I said. She'd told me it was over the night before, when we were talking on the phone. But maybe I'd been mistaken.

Krissy shook her head, like trying to snap it clean off. I started to dive forward, but again she redirected me.

"I want to return the favor," I said, almost pleadingly. "You made me feel so good."

"Don't Jacob," Krissy said. The firmest 'no' she'd ever given me. "It's dirty."

I was too confused to argue. What was the difference between her sucking my dick and me licking her pussy? There was no reasonable reason, but she made it clear she wasn't into it at all. Like a lot of things with my aloof-yet-aroused girlfriend, I figured she'd come around to it eventually. So, instead, I offered her a compromise.

I held up my hand, showing Krissy that I would only use my fingers, and she nodded. I dipped my digits into her warm, dripping sex. She was wetter than I'd ever felt. Maybe cunnilingus icked her out but going down on me sure seemed to work her up.

Also, it had been almost a week since I'd been able to rub Krissy's golden pussy, and all that build-up must have had her seriously on edge. She came almost moments after I touched her. I barely had to even rub. I contacted her little clitty and Krissy went off.

"Oh my GOD!" she shrieked. Her body collapsed around my hand, flushing from feet to fingers. She hugged at my arm, practically in the fetal position, crushing me while her orgasm ground her down.

Finally, she fell back, eyes vacant. At least I'd managed to reward her in some way.

*

The next week, we added all kinds of fun recipes to our menu of afternoon delights. Krissy would get me off with her hands or her mouth, usually using both. Sometimes she'd swallow, others I came on her tits or her face. Krissy seemed to enjoy the aftermath of my orgasm almost as much as getting me there in the first place.

I fingered Krissy till she came, not always as explosive as that one time, but I made sure to get her off. She even stroked herself for me a few times, putting on a little show. I tried to convince her to rub herself on her own, when I wasn't around. Something about the idea of her masturbating at home worked me up like crazy. But she wouldn't do it. Or, if she did, she wouldn't tell me.

Still, this new version of Krissy was incredible. Sure, it was frustrating whenever she put up an arbitrary boundary, but it didn't bother me all that much. Time had a way of changing Krissy's mind for me. This was a girl who, a few weeks after she told me not to take my pants off, had given me an almost predatory blowjob on my family's kitchen floor (Krissy had said she wanted a snack, I misunderstood what she meant).

Krissy wasn't letting me lick her for now. She wouldn't masturbate on her own at the moment. I had no doubt that anything she refused was something she'd come around to eventually. If anything, Krissy saying 'no' to something now was almost a promise for what we would be doing soon after. We'd progressed to this amazing point in such a short amount of time. I could only imagine what we'd be doing by the end of the summer.

*

"We can't have sex, Jacob," Krissy said.

It was the middle of the afternoon and we'd just finished another shared stroking session. Now we were laying back in my bed, post-orgasm stupid and absently tracing each other's bodies. Oddly affectionate.

Krissy was splayed out on top of the comforter, completely naked. It was a rare sight, her exposing herself so easily. Her hand and arm were sticky from my spend. She was panting from the exertion of her own ecstasy. The sight of Krissy's bare body -- her gorgeous face and golden locks; full breasts and hairy pussy -- was enough to get me erect all over again.

I had started kissing my way up her chest, to her face. That led to other things lining up, as well. My dick slid up Krissy's ruddy thighs. I slipped my tongue into her mouth.

But Krissy was already satiated, and she shoved me back. Her pink nails sharp on my chest. Her eyes flashed annoyance. That's when she said it.

"We can't have sex, Jacob," Krissy repeated, to make sure I was listening.

I rolled off her, sitting at her side. We leapt from close cuddling to barely even touching. Once again, I'd accidentally set her off. There were minefields with less hidden explosives than Krissy.

"That's fine," I said. "I wasn't going to. It was just a kiss."

"I'm saving myself," Krissy said, "For my husband. It's important."

I didn't need her to tell me that man wasn't going to be me. The implication was clear even before she'd made it. We weren't building that kind of bond. But in the moment, it still kind of hurt.

My connection with Krissy was so transactional. We were a couple in that we were coupling. Coming along in our relationship in that we kept cumming along.

It bothered me sometimes, the lack of emotional connection between Krissy and me. But when I imagined taking our relationship further; I couldn't picture it. Those sorts of emotions didn't fit in with us. It was only when we got each other's clothes off that we managed to mesh.

"Of course," I said, "There's plenty of stuff we can do."

Krissy let out a long, pained sigh and sat up on my bed. Rested her head in her hands. Pink nails poking out through her blonde tresses. Sharp elbows dug into her stick-thin thighs. I could see the little bumps of her spine running up her back.

She seemed upset but I couldn't see why. In fact, something about Krissy had been off all afternoon. I was used to her being distant, but she'd seemed miles away. Even when we'd gotten off, staring into each other's eyes, I'd struggled to seek her out.

"I'm glad you told me," I said, still backpedaling. "I respect it and I won't make you feel pressured."

Krissy only stiffened further. She wouldn't look me in the eye. Holy crap, how had I gone this wrong? Maybe I'd gotten too comfortable. I remembered back to when I'd barely gotten her bra off. I'd treated Krissy more like a rabid badger than a girl I was trying to get with. It had kept me in her good graces. I needed to go back to the mindset if I didn't want to lose my makeout partner.

Krissy let out another deep sigh, then looked away. "My mom set me up on a date," she said.

"Oh."

"I think the whole pool thing freaked her out," Krissy said, "Or, I don't know. She's making me go to dinner with the son of a friend of hers from church. He goes to Catholic school two towns over."

"You told her no, right?"

"She showed me a picture," Krissy said, "He's tall. Broad shouldered with light eyes. Seems nice."

"You told her no," I said again, "Right?"

"What am I supposed to say?" Krissy asked. She finally turned to look at me. "What can I say? How do I describe... this." She gestured to our naked bodies on the bed.

"You could tell her you already have a boyfriend," I said. But it came out way whinier than I intended.

Krissy shook her head at me and sighed. I knew what she was really asking for. She wanted it both ways. She could date this handsome devil and still fool around with me. Everyone would be happy. And maybe I should have let it go. What claim did I have?

But I wanted it both ways, too. So I played the only card I had left. I stood up and pulled on my underwear. Then I gathered the rest of my clothes and slowly got dressed. I probably looked goofy, but it didn't matter.

"It's just a date," Krissy said, "Nothing's going to happen." She was trying to look stern but doing it naked only made her seem silly.

I responded by pulling on my shirt. Krissy shook her head and started getting dressed, as well. I didn't think someone could violently snap a bra on until I saw Krissy do it. It looked like it hurt, but I guess that was the point.

"I'm a grown woman," Krissy said, once she was clothed again. "I can do what I want."

"Tell your mother that," I said.

"I will!" Krissy shouted.

"Good!" I shouted back.

That was how we left things. Krissy walked out the door and stormed down the street. Not even looking back.

I spent the rest of the day chastising myself. I knew there was no way Krissy would admit to her parents what was going on. I could have been the bigger man. Let her have one lousy dinner, freeze this poor guy out, and have her to myself again. We'd both be mostly happy with that outcome, only slightly miserable, and it would have been fine. Instead, I had to force the issue.

Our relationship worked best when we didn't define it. When it existed as an open secret with no set rules or expectations. By doing what I did, I was making Krissy choose to commit to me. And I knew, in my deepest heart, that she would never do that. Couldn't.

Maybe that's what broke my heart a bit. Was it that I didn't want a relationship with Krissy? Or that I knew I couldn't have one so I didn't bother making the connections? I felt like a kid who'd stolen a Ferrari. Driving the thing as hard as I could since I'd never actually get to own one, myself.

That made sense with a sports car, but with an actual human being it was a terrible way to live. It was like I knew I didn't deserve Krissy. I wasn't tall or handsome. Neither successful nor particularly wealthy. But I wanted her to tell me I was worthy of her anyway. As if I could trick her into it. As if it would be worth something if I did.

The next day came and went, with no word from Krissy. After work, I went home to an empty house. Stared at the TV for a few hours, not even aware of what I was watching. I told myself I was fine, that I wasn't staring out the windows like some lovesick puppy. The blonde woman never showed.

That night, our usual call time came and went. I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. I told myself to sleep. To move on. All I could do was soak in my regret, rerunning every moment in my mind. Like that might change something.

Every failure of the past year came roaring back to me. Krissy had been this odd shelter. A bubble I could hide in while the world rolled by. But once my safe space had popped, everything raced back.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I remember was a loud ringing. My room was pitch dark. At first, I thought the sound was my alarm, but I realized it was the phone. I fell out of bed and crawled over to get it.

I picked up, barely conscious. I couldn't imagine who could be calling. I hoped it was Krissy. I desperately prayed it wasn't. You know what every parent tells you: nothing good ever happens after midnight.

I'd barely managed to make out a sleepy hello before Krissy cut me off.

"It's done," she said, "I told my mom."

"What's done?" I asked, "What did you tell her?"

The line was already dead.

*

Once a year, for one weekend in June, Our Lady of Grace hosted a festival in the parking lot behind the church. It was a fairly big affair, especially for our little town, and almost everyone in the area showed up. For one three-day period, even Blockbuster was slow.

I had to work both Friday and Saturday. As usual, Krissy's Sunday morning was reserved for religious affairs. But Sunday afternoon and evening we were both free. Krissy's parents couldn't complain about her going to a church fair, after all. And so, it afforded us the rare opportunity to hang out in public as a 'couple' in relative safety.

Yes, technically Krissy and I were now officially a couple. Though I wasn't sure exactly how she'd described our relationship to her parents and, honestly, I wasn't looking forward to finding out. It was still safer to keep ourselves under wraps for the most part. So going out like this felt like a treat. Sort of.

After all, this was a public place and so we stayed fairly chaste. No major making out or anything like that. For a normal couple, that would be fine. Even expected. But for Krissy and I, that made everything a challenge. We simply weren't good at things that didn't involve getting each other off. The fact that we'd just had our first major fight didn't make conversation any easier, either.

Krissy and I went up in the Ferris Wheel and we did a couple of spinner rides. I bought Krissy an ice cream and we shared a bag of zeppole. Then we got to one of those swinging pirate ship things.

I'm not a fan of the feeling of falling in the first place. And this ride looked rickety as hell. I very much didn't want to go on it. But Krissy forced me.

I felt ill before we even sat down. Those zeppole were not sitting well. As soon as the boat started swinging, I gripped the metal bar like it was a life preserver. It was worse than normal nausea; more like I was about to die.

But when I looked over at Krissy for support, all I got was a scowl. She had her arms raised above her head. Her eyes screamed excitement. She looked down at my own fists, gripping the rail, and shook her head.

"Nervous?" she shouted over the roar of the ride, "Maybe I should have your mommy pick you up after."

"Did you just call me a pussy?!" I asked, flabbergasted.

Krissy shrugged her shoulders. But that wry little grin crept up her face. I let out a deep sigh. I let go of the bar. My stomach lurched but I told it to shut up. I didn't get my hands over my head, but Krissy gave me a little nod of satisfaction anyway.

The ride was a challenge, but it wasn't the real problem. Because the fair was such an event, almost everyone went there. Krissy's parents weren't coming (neither were mine). But the chances of us running into people we both 1. Knew and 2. Didn't want to see, were pretty high. Neither Krissy nor I were looking for any high school reunions, so we both did our best to dodge when we saw someone familiar.

But, of course, we did meet some people we knew. Just not the ones I was expecting or worried about.

First, while waiting in line for the Tilt-A-Whirl, I saw a face I was sure I recognized. He was tall, with a shock of dark curly hair. Sure enough, it was my old friend from Hebrew School, Adam Kaplan.

Like I said, my family were the only Jews in town. We went to a temple about ten miles east where the population was more diverse. That's where I'd met Adam -- one of the few Jewish kids around my age that I knew before going to college.

Adam must have felt me staring because he turned around. I waved hello and he ambled over. Adam was tall and gangly, a string bean of a boy, which was how I saw him at all. He was wearing a Cornell t-shirt and ripped jeans.

It was weird, but I found myself truly, legitimately, happy to see the guy. We hadn't stayed in contact after graduation. But I guess time, and a lack of friends that summer, had softened me up a bit.

I introduced him to Krissy, and he shook her hand before shooting me a look. A blonde, Christian woman on my arm was either a heck of an accomplishment or a massive mistake. His expression encompassed both options at once. It was an impressive achievement.

"Gwen is visiting her aunt up in Connecticut," Adam said, referring to his long-time girlfriend.

Gwen was another temple friend, a cute girl with ruddy cheeks and a nice smile. She and Adam had been together since freshman year of high school. They'd been a package deal for so long, I guess Adam was used to people asking after her when they saw him.

"It's too bad, I'd have liked to meet her," Krissy said. I was surprised, but she sounded genuine.

"We should go out, the four of us," Adam said, "Gwen and I don't have a lot of couple friends. Maybe a movie?"

Again, I found myself thinking that I'd enjoy hanging out with Adam, which suggests a previously unacknowledged level of loneliness. Krissy, oddly, also seemed super enthusiastic about it. So, I gave Adam my number and we agreed to work something out.

Our next encounter was equally enthusiastic and unexpected. Krissy bumped into one of her friends from the summer camp where she worked. They did the standard squeal-greeting-then-hug thing while I stood to the side, trying not to look excessively awkward.

Krissy's friend was short and skinny. She had red hair, tied back tightly in a ponytail, and was wearing a skirt and polo. It looked like she'd just stepped out of Catholic school, and maybe she had. But the most striking thing about her was her chest.

Even through the layers of the uniform, this girl was clearly top heavy. Her breasts looked like they were about to explode off of her. Like she might tip forward at any moment and be stuck there, like a turtle. I tried not to stare, but it was hard to avoid. She was a monument to the oddities of physics and biology all at once (and a vision of a dark future of hellish back pain).

When the girls separated, Krissy's friend turned to look at me and her eyes went wide. I knew, in that moment, that Krissy had told this girl some things. For a moment, I thought she might have been the one who'd suggested the blowjob, but immediately I could tell that wasn't the case. This girl was way too shy. Already, just looking at me, I could tell she was suppressing a nervous giggle.