The Sex Crystals Pt. 06

There is very little incest in this chapter because...well, just because, really.

I don't know who Josh is, or where he came from or whether he will be involved much more beyond this chapter. All I know is that he came to me one day and demanded that his story be told. So here it is.

This chapter involves a lot of build up, some male-male oral sex and some incest. If either - or both - of these subjects are not your thing, or you're not a big fan of long-winded build up, please feel free to close this story and find another one that is better suited to your tastes.

Thank you.

The past week or so had been a blur for Robbie. That initial night was still burned into his memory - and probably would be forever more. The farmhouse. The crystals. The fucking his mother. The fucking his sister. Watching. Waiting. Participating.

The whole family still missed Bill, though. It was weird. They'd only known the guy a few hours, but his death had hit them all hard. So hard, in fact, they'd all managed to go for nearly twenty-four hours without sex!

But once those sex-free hours were over? Oh, fuck! Robbie could barely keep the thoughts to himself. His mother. His sister. His father. Fucking. Being fucked. Licking. Sucking. Being licked. Being sucked. The past few days had been a fuckathon like porn and erotica could only dream of. Robbie had no idea how many times he had come, or been come in, or been come on. He had lost count somewhere in the mid-forties and that had been sometime on Wednesday.

It was now Saturday and Robbie, for a wonder, was not having sex. This was not entirely surprising, since everyone else was out.

His parents, Mike and Sarah, were visiting Mike's widowed mother, Valerie, in the care home. Valerie had had two huge strokes almost on top of one another some months previously and, although the carers did a wonderful job, Valerie was quite an independent old woman, who persistently tried to do everything for herself.

This caused no end of problems for the carers, since Valerie couldn't get it into her head that her entire left side didn't work properly any longer. She was regularly to be found on the floor, having tried to walk to her bathroom only for her left side to give out on her and send her tumbling.

She had done this, again, last night and the carers had called Mike up, concerned, as Valerie had one hell of a bruise on her hip and was muttering incoherently. He and Sarah had left early, since the care home was about two hours away. It was likely they'd be out for the day.

Aimee was also gone. She'd received a text from her best friend, Tilly, who had broken up with whichever obnoxious little shit it was she'd been dating for the last five minutes. Robbie didn't know the guys name, but that wasn't a problem, since there would be another one along fairly soon - probably by the end of the day.

Robbie thought that Tilly was cute (for one of his sisters' friends), but she was also as thick as a box of mattresses. No matter how many times she picked, dated and was dumped by the same kind of pathetic twat that gave guys a bad name, she always moved on to another one who was exactly the same. She'd dated six guys in less than three months and had fallen in love with all of them (so Aimee told him, anyway) before they'd had their way with her, notched the bedpost and moved on to the next conquest.

Aimee would likely be mending Tilly's heart for a few hours before they'd head off to the movies (or, more likely, go shopping) and Tilly would be magnetically drawn to the next dickhead on her ever-growing list of heartbreaks. This meant Aimee would also probably be out all day.

Robbie didn't mind being on his own - it gave him a chance to recover. Or it would, if he needed to recover but he really didn't. The comments by Bill came to him, about how he (Bill) had been much too quick to recover from That Night.

Robbie felt it too; they all did. This much sex in a month should have had them sleeping for days, but somehow, it didn't. They slept, definitely, for several hours at a time - all of them. Usually, they felt tired when they fell asleep.

Yet when they awoke, they were all bright and full of energy again, as if they'd downed a dozen isotonic drinks rather than been to bed. It made for a great sex life, Robbie had to admit to himself. But he also had to admit to himself that it made him just a little creeped out and nervous, too.

Robbie's phone pinged him a WhatsApp from a number he didn't recognise. He picked it up. It was pretty badly typed and Robbie - who had been brought up by a mother who taught and considered bad spelling and text speak to be the work of the devil - shook his head as he read it.

[Hi. It's Josh from uni. U might kno me from maths. I sit a few rows bak from u. I hear ur gud with laptops. Mines froze n I dunno wat to do wit it. Can u help? Thx. Josh. From uni.]

Robbie had a small side-line fixing PC's and laptops. Problems like the one Josh was reporting were usually caused by one of two things. Either the machine was old and knackered and needed major surgery or a full replacement, or there was a virus on it - often picked up from a porn site that the machine owner would deny having ever visited.

"Don't know what that site is. Never even heard of it, in fact. Porn? What's that? How dare you suggest such a thing? I use my machine for bible study and prayer and to do Zoom calls with my parents who've also never heard of porn and so please don't tell them, yeah? I'll pay extra!"

Robbie sent a message back to Josh: [Sure. I can have a look at it for you. When can you bring it over?] He sent another with his address on it.

Josh replied fairly quickly: [Im free now if thats ok]

[No problem. I am here all day.]

[Gr8 c u Soon be abut half n hor]

Robbie shook his head again. He searched his memory for a Josh. If it was the guy he thought it was, he seemed like a decent kind of guy. A bit quiet, maybe; kept himself to himself. Not as tall as Josh, but still well built. Blonde hair. Had tried - and failed - to grow a moustache a few months ago until someone had whispered in his ear that he looked like a prick and he'd quickly shaved it off. Shit at pool. If it was the same guy.

Twenty-odd minutes later, the bell rang and Robbie was pleased to see it was, indeed, the same guy. "Hi, come on in and we'll have a look," he said.

Josh came in and took his laptop rucksack down off his back. He undid the zips and the Velcro elastic and handed the offending object to Robbie. "I don't know what's up with it," he said. "It was fine until a couple of days ago, but then it started running like a bastard... sorry."

"It's fine," Robbie smiled. "I can handle the word 'bastard'!"

Josh grinned, self-consciously. "Well, anyway, this morning it's not even doing that. It turns on and the thing goes round and round and nothing happens." Josh rotated his hand in a circular motion to illustrate how the "thing" kept going round and round. Robbie saw this kind of behaviour often and it never failed to amuse him.

"I see," he replied. "OK, let's have a look."

Robbie did the obvious things like power the laptop off and power it back on again ("fixes 99% of all known problems" he told Josh) and did a quick disk check. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the laptop simply wouldn't come on.

Next, he grabbed a USB CD-Rom drive and ran a couple of troubleshooting programs in the background. One of them indicated the issue - an updated system driver that was fucked - and he managed to get rid of it and get the laptop to load. Josh logged in...and the laptop did pretty much nothing. "See," Josh said, pointing at the laptop. "That's what it's like. Slow as a week in jail as my dad used to say."

Robbie nodded. The laptop really was running poorly, but it seemed relatively new - possibly even newer than his own. Virus, he thought to himself.

He was mildly surprised to see that Josh had a decent AV program on the laptop and commented on it. "Yeah," Josh replied. "My dad used to do IT stuff when I was younger. He obsessed about viruses and stuff. I guess I got it from him."

Robbie nodded and ran a quick virus check. The results were negative. Robbie frowned. "I don't get it," he said. "If it was a virus, this should have picked up on it - unless it's right down in the back end. That would take a full check, but that takes a couple of hours."

Robbie looked at Josh. "OK," he said. "I've gotta ask and you've got to be honest with me, alright?"

"OK," Josh said, clearly nervous.

"Have you... fuck!" Robbie hated asking this question - he felt it made him sound like a bit of a pervert. "Have you been on any...adult websites?"

"You mean porn," Josh asked. He had expected the question.

"Er..., yeah."

"No," Josh replied. "Definitely not."

"Remember," Robbie said, not believing this for a moment, "you promised to be honest with me."

"I am being honest with you," Josh answered. "I know all about porn and that sort of stuff, and I know that sites like that can really fuck your machine up, so I don't use the laptop for that."

Robbie was intrigued. "What...what do you use, then?"

"What?"

"You said you don't use the laptop for porn," Robbie said. "So what do you use?"

Josh blushed all kinds of red. With the tousled mop of blond hair, he looked like a teenage Donald Trump. It was not a good look.

"A...a um... Kindle," Josh whispered.

"Really? A Kindle?"

"Yeah," Josh answered. "No-one knows I've got it. It's easy to hide. There's no personal info on it and, if it gets screwed up, I can reset it or bin it!"

"Cool," Robbie answered. "I'd never thought of that!" Of course, after the last week, secret porn hasn't really been an issue!

He still wasn't sure he believed Josh about the lack of porn on the machine, however, so he did a little digging around. A few minutes later, having come up with precisely nothing - not even a banner ad or cookie - he conceded that maybe Josh was being truthful after all.

"Well, I really don't get it," Robbie said. "Something's screwed on it, that's obvious, but I'm buggered if I know what!"

"Well, what about that full check you talked about," Josh asked. "Could that find something?"

"Maybe," Robbie agreed, "but it can take hours. It's up to you. I'm free all day, like I said, so I'm happy to do it if you want to wait. Or I can show you what to do and you can take it away, or you can leave it here and pick it up later. It's up to you."

"I'm not doing anything - I can wait."

"OK," Robbie agreed and set the scan up for a full, deep investigation of the machine. After a minute or two of flashing information on the screen, the computer claimed that the full scan would take at least four hours.

"So... four hours. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Josh replied. "What have you got?"

Robbie thought for a moment. "There's the PS5," he said.

Josh screwed his face up. "I'm no good at that sort of thing," he answered. "I'm the kind of loser who always gets shot first."

Robbie nodded. "Fair enough," he said. "Beyond that, we've got TV with all the trimmings or the games room."

"Games room? You have a games room?"

"Well, technically it's the garage," Robbie said. "Only, the car doesn't fit in it because the boiler's in there, just inside the door - which is really bad planning, by the way! But it means the car sits outside, so it was just a dumping ground for shit. Until my dad and I cleared it out a year or two ago and turned it into what we call the games room."

"What kind of games?"

"Not much, to be fair. There's a dartboard, a mini-bowling lane and the pool table."

"Pool sounds good," Josh answered.

Robbie blinked. "Bullshit," he said. "I've seen you at pool. Fuck, I've played you at pool! You're fucking useless! No offence!"

"Plenty taken," Josh said, smirking. "But, have you ever wondered why I'm so shit at pool?"

"I assumed it was because you're shit at pool," Robbie said.

"Good guess," Josh came back, "but quite wrong. I'm actually pretty decent at it, but no-one wants to play the good players because no-one likes having their arse handed to them on a plate. So I play like a dick and people play against me and win and they feel good and I just laugh at them. Inside, I mean."

"Seriously? You're really good?"

"No," Josh answered. "I'm fucking fantastic."

Robbie's face showed that he did not believe this at all.

"OK," Josh said. "You know Isabelle? Isabelle Conroy?"

"Yeah," Robbie said. Robbie had always been fairly good at pool, and his skill had increased massively since the games room had been set up. But Isabelle was, by some distance, the best pool player he'd ever had kick his arse. Isabelle kicked everyone's arse at pool. She claimed to play at a professional level. Robbie didn't know about that, but he could almost believe it.

"You know she doesn't play any more, right?"

Robbie nodded. It was weird, he knew. Isabelle had kicked the arse of everyone she met, always paying up front (so you felt bad turning her down) and generally lording it (or ladying it, perhaps) over everyone else.

Then, suddenly, about a month ago, she had stopped playing completely and wouldn't tell anyone why. Even players who offered to pay up got turned down and anyone stupid enough to try and push the point got turned down in a very nasty way.

"Do you know why she doesn't play any more," Josh asked. Robbie shook his head. "It's because I finally had enough of her being the ultimate bitch, going on about being a fucking professional and all that shit. So I paid up, played her and kicked her arse into next week."

"And it wasn't a fluke?"

"Nope. I'm known for being shit at pool, right? So she wouldn't play at first until I agreed to play best of five - her idea. She made me promise not to sulk off when she when. When she won! Like it was fucking preordained!"

"Yeah," Robbie agreed. "She's a dick for being a winner so often." Robbie had played Isabelle a few times and had only pulled off a single victory against her.

"So we played and I didn't hold back like usual. The first game, she maybe thought I was just getting lucky, but in the end we didn't get to five games or anything like it, because I won 3-0."

Robbie gaped. "Seriously?"

"Yep," Josh said. "By the end, she was so pissed off, she almost snapped the cue! Then, when I sank the black for the third game, she threw the chalk at me, called me a 'complete fucking cheating wanker', slapped me across the face, spat at me and stormed off."

"Nice. Such a good loser," Robbie said, sarcastically.

"Yeah. The spit was a bit much, but the rest was just funny. She had this fire in her eyes. It made her look like some sort of demon or something. She glared at me! Glared! Standing over me, trying to intimidate me! And I just looked at her and said 'I win' and she just fucking lost it! Honestly, it was so funny! When she left, I just laughed!"

"And no-one saw you do this?"

"No - it was pretty late and the match was on that night. I missed the match - not that we won anyway - but it was well worth it!"

Robbie nodded his agreement. "Alright," he said. "Pool. You're on. And if you're dicking me around, I'm gonna break the cue on your arse!"

Josh smiled and the two of them headed to the gara...games room.

"So, how come you're so good - if you really are that good," Robbie asked.

"I play snooker over at Joe's, you know it?"

Robbie shrugged. "Kinda," he replied. "I mean, I've heard about Joe's Snooker Emporium, but I've never been inside."

"Emporium," Josh sniggered. "My arse! There are precisely six full-sized tables and a few pictures of 80's snooker legends stuck on the wall and that's about it. A couple of the pictures are signed, though, I guess. Steve Davis, Cliff Thorburn, Willie Thorne, maybe a couple of others. Nigel Bond is signed too, I think.

"Anyway, I play League there a couple of nights a week. Snooker is just grown up pool. Bigger tables, more balls, harder shots. Trust me, you get good at snooker and pool is just a walk in the park."

"You play League?" The two of them had entered the games room and Robbie headed to the pool table to rack up.

"Yeah. I'm doing alright this year. Well, better than last year. I finished third-bottom last year - it was not a good year! I'm top six this year, though. I've got a slim chance of winning the League, but it's very slim! Still, I beat Steve Hargreaves - he's top at the moment - that's kept me in it. Sadly, I'm the only person to have beaten Steve in the last couple of months, so I probably won't catch him."

"But still - top six isn't bad. Unless there's only six of you in the League," Robbie laughed.

"Fuck you," Josh smiled back. "Twenty-four, actually."

Robbie whistled. "That is good," he said, finishing racking up the balls. "Or, at least, it sounds good!"

"So, how do we decide who breaks," Josh asked.

"Darts? Three darts - highest total chooses who breaks?"

"OK," Josh said, wrinkling his nose a little. "I mean, I don't play darts, but whatever."

"It's alright," Robbie said, "neither do I. Much." So saying, he picked up three darts, went to the end of the oche and threw them. A treble-twenty, a twenty and one that just slipped the wrong side of the wire into the treble-five gave him a total of 85.

Josh grimaced. "I'm fucked," he said and threw his own darts with even less hope than expectation. Amazingly, all three scored points, but no trebles and his highest scoring dart only a single nineteen left him some way adrift.

"I win," Robbie said. "But that was maybe a bit unfair! I've played the darts a bit, although 85 is probably my best ever score! So you can break if you want."

Josh nodded, chalked up his cue and struck the cue ball hard. A few seconds later, when all the balls had come to rest, Robbie knew he was in trouble. One of the yellows had gone, so Josh was already one up and, whilst he wasn't on the best line for a second, the shot wasn't massively complicated. "Now I'm fucked," he laughed.

The use of that word stirred something in the back of Robbie's mind. An animalistic feeling that he'd forgotten existed, despite it being part of his very core for the past few days. My crystal, he thought. He looked over at the "trophy cabinet", which was really a couple of shelves with a few knick-knacks on them. There, on the middle shelf, was a purple devil-shaped crystal, right where he had left it.

And, next to it, was the horse-shaped crystal belonging to his sister and, next to them his mother's flower and his father's bee.

Oh, fuck, Robbie thought to himself. I'd forgotten that!

The Ross family still had very little understanding of the power of the crystals they had been given. That they lowered inhibitions and resulted in huge amounts of sex was indisputable, as was the fact that they worked on other people (one huge night with Bill was enough to convince them of that!) However, they still didn't know how powerful the crystals might be.

It was Mike who had fucked up first - and (allegedly) by accident. Since they had no chains for the crystals, they had generally been left in the main room but by some "accident", Mike had left his in his jeans pocket when he went to work.

He had, he claimed, had to fight off attention from several co-workers of various genders, ages and marital status who had all been in a very flirtatious mood all that day. Whilst Mike claimed not to have taken advantage of this (actually, quite true), it had made for an interesting day, if one that had resulted in a huge case of blue-balls that Mike had emptied enthusiastically into the mouths of his wife and children almost before he'd closed the front door that night.