Tom and Crystal

She stared at him a moment. Then he went on. "I'd better say, though. I demand the same from you. I'm demanding—well, a charade, a pretense of affection for everyone else's benefit, and the kind of sex a girl has with a steady boyfriend. OK? I can't demand that you actually love me, and I know under the circumstances you won't. But for everyone else you act like it and talk like it, and that means no cheating either way."

She said, "That's fine. If I'm ever tempted, I'll tell you, but I won't do anything with anyone else, period.

"Now, it's getting a little late, and we need to get busy and get to bed. And I need to warn you. This—it feels kind of like rape to me, and I think I'll take a while to get used to it. More than just tonight, I mean, but definitely tonight. I guess you're buying the right to say how we do things, but it's not going to be very good for me no matter what, and it'll be better—for both of us—if you can take things slow enough to get me a little ready. OK?

"And along with that—. Um. Can I beg you for no anal—not just tonight but ever? I mean, I did it with Jim and Bud both, but the first time or two they each held me down and forced it on me. Bud at least used some lube. But I hated it, everything about it.

"And the same during my period. Please! I know, some people just don't care—men and women both. Probably some find it a turn-on, somehow. But for me, it's just horribly disgusting. And I promise you won't have to go completely without!

"Can you at least act like the kind of boyfriend I'd want to have, and not do those? Please?"

Tom felt himself starting to get mad. He tried to keep a lid on it, but he wanted to hunt down Jim and Bud, tie them up, and stuff a two-by-two or something up their asses—preferably one with lots of splinters. He said, "That's outrageous—Jim and Bud, I mean. I'll promise never to do either of those without your consent—and I don't mean like you're consenting to the rest of it, under duress. I'm curious about anal, but unless you change your mind it's out."

He worked to relax, and said, "And as far as the rest goes, your feelings aren't unreasonable. Morally speaking, this is rape, after all, and that's something else I never would have expected of myself. So why shouldn't you feel like it is?"

She got up and picked up her suitcase. He got up and led the way upstairs. As he went by the bathroom, he identified it, adding, "There's another one in my bedroom. I guess that makes it a 'master suite,' not just a bedroom, and this one a 'guest bath.'" The "master suite" was just beyond the "guest bathroom," so the two bathrooms shared a wall. The five doors on the opposite side of the hall were all closed.

The bedroom was pretty large, with a king-size bed, a couple of chests of drawers, bedside tables with drawers and doors below—without being crowded at all—and a large walk-in closet paneled with cedar. The windows, on two walls, had a really nice view—though it wasn't visible at that hour, of course. The bed had a single pillow, all the way to one side.

He stepped back into the hall, opened the door just across, and flipped on the light switch. "You said you're staying the night," he said. "We'll start off back there, but for sleeping you're welcome to be here in this guest room, either for the sake of your own feelings, or—I don't really know, but I may kind of thrash around in my sleep. Obviously, I'm not awake to observe, but sometimes the covers look like it.

"If you sleep in here, use whichever bathroom you prefer."

She looked at him in surprise. "If you do thrash around and it bothers me too much, I may come over here. Or if you snore loudly enough to keep me awake, say. Thank you. But otherwise, I'll be over there, and I'll start off there for sure." She stepped over to the bed and picked up the pillow. The case didn't match the sheets in his bedroom, of course, but he realized a little guiltily he hadn't even thought about her needing a pillow.

The guest room wasn't tiny, but it was a lot smaller than the master bedroom. He turned off the light, and they went back across to start getting ready.

He called her into the bathroom. "Did you bring a toothbrush?" When she shook her head, he rummaged in a drawer and came up with three unopened toothbrushes. "Pick one. My dental hygienist always gives me one, so I've got spares. The one I'm using now is yellow, so they won't get mixed up." They brushed their teeth, and then took turns in the bathroom for everything else.

They started undressing. After a moment, Crystal seemed to feel slightly uncomfortable. "Tom, you're staring at me like you've never seen a woman in her underwear. Do you mind?"

"Sorry. I don't mean to creep you out or anything—but I haven't! OK, I've seen plenty of women at the beach in suits that are scantier than what you're wearing now. But even if you weren't so beautiful—Um. I've never seen a woman in the nude before, actually present I mean, and I'm really interested. More than interested!"

She stepped over, around the bed, and put her hands on his shoulders. "Tom, you never mentioned that. I assume you mean this is your first time? And, um, a couple of years ago or so, you went around with, um, first Marie Jacobs and then Jackie Benjamin. How did you ever miss going to bed with them both? I admit I don't really know them, personally, but I know their reputations, and everything I've seen confirms those. I'd expect them, either of them, to strip herself bare and try to drag you to the nearest bed or couch, the instant she had you alone! Even if you weren't rich! I mean, I'm sure that's what they really were after, why it was you, but they both treat anyone of the male sex as fair game. Their preferred prey. I've heard several guys go on and on about it, and they sound a lot like black widow spiders crossed with minks."

He laughed. "Neither one of them got the chance, and they both tried. Everything I did with either one of them, she set it up and invited me. I paid for the dinners and things, of course—the waiters just brought the bills to me and waited—but I never once asked either of them out. When I took them home, they initiated the goodnight kisses—one in the car and one at the door, every time, and high voltage—and practically tried to drag me inside. But by that time, I'd already seen the dollar signs in their eyes, and heard the mental ka-ching, whenever they looked at me, and I disentangled myself outside the door. I'd say something like that was on the immediate agenda if I'd gone in, then." He grimaced. "A full-court press, the instant the door closed, followed by a trail of clothes to the bedroom. Probably the nearest rug would have done, if I didn't follow right off."

Crystal in turn laughed. "I'm sorry! If I knew, I would've made more of a production of getting my dress off." She gave him a wry grin, then reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She turned around to face the other way, then slid it down her arms, wiggling her butt and hips at him. She waved the bra over her head like a banner with her right hand as she turned, slowly this time, presenting him with a view of her left arm covering her breasts, then tossed the bra at him and lowered her arms to her hips. He caught it reflexively, then tossed it at the chair where her dress was draped. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was beautiful!

She swayed and writhed sinuously to some unheard rhythm as she put her forefingers in the waistband of her panties and got them down far enough to slide on their own as she swayed, then stepping out of them and turning around seductively. She turned back to face him, held out her arms, and said, "Aren't you going to appreciate me? Now that I've unwrapped your package?"

He stepped over and put his arms around her. He still had his underpants on—he'd been watching too closely to think about finishing. She put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss. It wasn't much like the kisses he'd mentioned earlier, from Marie and Jackie. Those had felt, well, manipulative. This one didn't feel like she was trying to convince him of something. It felt natural and gentle, a little tentative, but promised more.

Crystal stepped back slightly, took his hands, and put them on her breasts. She said, "Guys seem to want to squeeze. Don't—or be very, very gentle. Cupping and stroking are good." She moved up to kiss him again. He tried to follow her instructions, though he was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Intoxicated, maybe. He'd known, of course, that her breasts were fairly small, but they were beautiful. As her nipples hardened under his hands, he decided they were perfect.

After a minute or two she broke and stepped back. "Tom, all that helps, believe it or not. I'm still not—um, where I want to be, where I should be—but we should get in bed and go ahead." She grinned at him again. "Can you get your own shorts off, or do you want help?"

He didn't dignify that with an answer, just got the shorts off—well, he had to be careful at the beginning—turned off the lamp, and got in bed. The bed was wide enough that he habitually slept on one side. Crystal got in on the other side, where she'd put the pillow. She didn't exactly stay there, though. She wriggled herself over, with her pillow, and snuggled up to him. She kissed him again. Her hand went down to his penis.

He continued stroking her breasts as they kissed. After a few minutes of this, she told him, "There's likely a problem developing now. At least supposedly, on their first time guys don't usually last very long—barely long enough to get inside, sometimes not long enough for that. That fits my first experiences, too. I think you really are about ready to explode—you feel that way. I'm sorry to take charge, but I want to do something about that, for both our sakes."

She threw back the covers, and turned herself around. One hand stroked up and down him, once, and then she took the head of his penis into her mouth. She tongued him and sucked, moving up and down—two, three, four times. The fifth time he did explode. She sucked and swallowed until he was done, and a minute or so longer. She moved back and turned around again.

"We would've had quite a mess in the bed," she told him. "You really were about done. That should give you some time to work on me a little." She hesitated. "I'm sorry I didn't think ahead enough. I should have asked for a glass and gotten some water. I won't bother now. The taste isn't all that bad, really, but I'm not fond of it, and when I kiss you, you'll get the full effect. Guys don't usually want that, though I think some are too polite to say so."

He sat up for a moment, and opened the door under his bedside table. It held a very small refrigerator, just big enough for three or four bottles of water and maybe a little more. Since he only used it for water, he set it cool rather than really cold. He got one bottle out and handed it to her.

"I'm impressed," she said. After a moment, she went on. "You know, that's just like you. Not geared toward looking impressive, but things are there when you need them, and you're thoughtful—even in high school you were. I hope you'll believe I'm not a gold digger like certain women I won't name—but I think I'm going to like being your girlfriend, a lot. Some parts of it will still take a little while, though."

She rinsed out her mouth and swallowed, then capped the bottle and put it on the nightstand on her side. "Do I have a little fridge, too?"

"Sorry, no. If we need to put one in, it can be done, but right now it's just storage cupboard and drawer over there."

"I certainly don't need my own! I was just curious. But now—." She snuggled up to him again. He thought she was putting herself into it a little more, now. Of course, he was still interested, even though one part of him had settled down. It was maybe stirring some, though.

"Listen, Tom. There are some other things you need to be attending to. Give me your—let's see, your right hand." She lay back a little more, and used his hand to caress herself, gentle pressure and movement. "That's the mons veneris. Venus's Mountain, which seems like pretty extreme hyperbole—but that's its name. If I were really turned on, what you're doing right now would have a lot more effect. Right there, that's about the right amount of pressure to use.

"But now, here, rub gently along the labia—lips." She let go of his hand. "I can't steer your finger as well as your whole hand." He tried to do what he thought she meant. "You can probably feel that they're just a little parted. There's another pair, a little smaller, in between, and those are a little enlarged, pushing the outer ones apart. That means my body is responding—but not very much, so far, or everything would be opening up a lot more."

She turned the top of her torso toward him for a moment and kissed him. "Here's the thing. You can feel there's a little bit of moisture in there. By this point there should be lots more, but I told you why things aren't going normally—and the problem's me, not you. Allowing for inexperience, you're doing fine! But anyway, if you keep rubbing like that too much, it'll get uncomfortable pretty fast—too much friction.

"Now my own experience—as well as lots of bitching I've heard from other women—says that guys typically want to stick their fingers up our vaginas way too soon and way too much. At the right point, that can be wonderful and I'll love it, but we're not there yet. What I want you to do now is to try to slide more between the inner lips—just one finger. When you feel where the opening is, put your finger in a little way—maybe the length of the first joint or so, no more. What you're after is picking up enough moisture to lubricate, and then stroke kind of the way you've been doing. When you start to get dry, go back for more."

He tried his best to do exactly what she said, feeling klutzy and stupid. After a few minutes, she gasped slightly. She kissed him, definitely with more feeling than before. She told him, "That's perfect. Go a little deeper, and bring up more. Just for a little bit longer."

He complied, and her hips were thrusting a little sometimes. After a couple more times of the same, she said, "I'm a lot further along than I thought I'd manage tonight. And you're more than ready." She'd been stroking him, too. "For your first time, I'm going to be on top. That way, I can move more and try to help you. Tomorrow, or maybe later tonight, you'll get to say. Is that OK?"

"Sure! You know what you're doing, and you know I don't. Only, can you really kiss me a couple more times?"

"Yes. More than a couple!"

She kissed him, and again it seemed less tentative, less like something she was having to make herself do. Pretty soon, though, she sat up somewhat. She leaned over—breasts swaying a little, enticingly enough that he grabbed them to stroke the nipples for a few seconds—and then she took is penis in her mouth for a moment. She licked up and down, then swung her leg over his hips and straddled him. She used her hands to guide him and, he thought, to open herself up. She got him started in, then mostly lay down on him and gradually pushed down so he went in. She felt very tight—it felt to him like he was having to force her open as he went in. Finally he was all the way in.

"Try to hold still for a minute or two, Tom. You feel really good, but it's been a long time for me, and I'm still not really ready—you felt how tight I am. When I start moving, though, you can thrust to meet me each time. Not too hard or fast at first—let me drive, OK?"

Pretty soon, she started moving her hips, pulling partly off him, then back on, over and over, slowly. Gradually the strokes lengthened and sped up, little by little. He thought he knew pretty much what was coming, after what had happened in her mouth. At a certain point, he started moving more, pulling back and holding, then slamming in, faster and faster—not meaning to, but it was happening. Suddenly he found himself thrusting in hard, holding almost still, and then he was spurting and spurting, gasping and whimpering.

After a minute, Crystal kissed him, and then again. She said, "You were wonderful, Tom. Sometime later I'll say more, but you were! If I'd been able to stop remembering why I was doing this, it might have been almost as good for me as it's ever been. As things are, it'll be lots better eventually.

"Right now I'm going to come off and move over. We're kind of way over on your side, so I'll move quite a bit. Bring your pillow over by me. That way we'll both have room to move around some." She took her own pillow over, and moved, about to the middle of the bed, and he followed her.

She kissed him a few more times, lingeringly, then said, "We need to sleep now. I'll see you in the morning. Right now, I'll turn over, and you can snuggle up against my back, if you're comfortable that way.

"If you wake up in the night, try to go back to sleep. Please. But if you're too horny, try to be gentle when you wake me up. If I can get myself really awake first, I should be able to avoid bitching about it. But I hope we can wait until morning—it's awfully late now."

He snuggled against her. His hand found her breast. After a few moments, she said, "Not there, not right now, please, honey. We need to go to sleep." She soon drifted off. It took him a little longer.

Tom was awakened by Crystal's crawling out of bed and heading into the bathroom. When she got back in, she said, "The only times I've slept in a bed this big were in hotels, and I kind of slept near the edge. I thought I'd never find my way out, just now!" She moved up against him.

Seeing her walking, nakedly beautiful, had his penis erect, and she obviously could feel it. She said, "All right, it's not that early, and I know you're not going to want to go back to sleep. Do you need to visit the bathroom first?" He decided he'd better. Relaxing enough to go was hard, but afterward he was glad he had. He got back in bed.

Crystal came and snuggled against him. She yawned, then kissed him, then kissed him harder. She told him, "You won't know, so let me tell you. You were gentler and more patient and more considerate than any guy I've ever had sex with has ever been! The first few, starting that prom night, probably don't count for much. They were—we both were running on pure lust, and pretty inexperienced too. Back seat of a car or whatever. One time only, with each. But Jim and Bud, now, they knew better. They just didn't really care much about me."

She kissed him again. "I know some women like being abused a little—rough sex. Spanking and all that, being grabbed and held down, whatever. I know some of them actually do like it, because I've heard them talk about it—but I just can't imagine how! Tom, I really hope you'll keep on being that gentle. After a while, you'll know what you're doing, more—you won't be following my lead all the time. And I really don't have a right to tell you what to do in this, but please remember, it's likely to be better for you if it's good for me. Honestly. Unless you're one of the guys those women like, who want to prove how manly they are by not caring—and I think you're not.

"So, what do you want this morning? I could suck you off again, or you could be on top. There are other positions, some of which I'll probably show you at some point. I'm actually a lot readier than I was when we started last night, but I hope you'll do what you can to turn me on first anyway."