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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: crystal.txt (MF, rom, 1st)
Authors name: Devil's Sugar (leroyking69@hotmail.com)
Story title : Crystal
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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Crystal (MF, rom, 1st)
by Devil's Sugar (leroyking69@hotmail.com)
***
A second chance. This is a fictional story, but the
title character is based on someone I knew long ago, who
would probably kick my ass if she ever saw this.
***
Can you really have a second chance with your first
love?
One day when I was in the fifth grade we were told there
would be a new girl in the school, and since this school
was rather small (only about seven- eight kids per room)
the revelation was big news. The teacher said her name
was Crystal, but since most of the students were going
to a play that afternoon while her orientation would
take place it seemed unlikely any of us would meet her
yet. When we lined up to leave my classmates started
whispering speculation about this new kid, and I tried
to picture her in my head.
Try to understand this was before the days of Springer
and Maury Povich; kids did not lose their virginity at
twelve, boys and girls didn't really mingle and while
the word sex got thrown around it was usually by the
most clueless. So I wasn't prepared for her in the
least.
It happened as we were headed through the boot room; I
saw someone crouched, taking off her shoes. She turned
her head up and for a moment the two of us locked eyes.
She looked about my age (a year older I found out
later), long brown hair that dropped past her shoulders
and green-grey eyes. I found myself stretching my head
around farther to see her as I walked until the line
took me past the outside doors.
I had written her off as just another classmate but once
I saw her she occupied my mind the whole day and
following weekend.
It turned out I wasn't the only one, all the other boys
would talk about in their free time was her, and a
friend named Curtis even showed me a piece of jewelry he
intended to give her! She acted like she didn't notice
the attention, in hindsight she probably knew very well
the effect she had on us.
Any opportunities I had to be around her were to be
seized at once, so when I could I hovered around her
like a wasp around spilt ice cream. You're going to call
me a stalker and I don't have an excuse, but I was one
of a crowd of hangers-on and I know she enjoyed the
attention sometimes.
As for whoever got her attention, well the lucky
sonofabitch turned out to be Nolan. Even though he wore
glasses he was still kind of a 'bad-boy'; until I met
him it never occurred to me a guy could get his ear
pierced without fear of being stuffed into a trashcan. I
remember on an outing how animated a kid called Dominic
got when he saw Crystal and Nolan kiss- he told
everybody, including me, as loud as he could.
Nolan and I had gotten along just fine, so when Dominic
mentioned he and Crystal made the four-lip butterfly I
was surprised to find myself wishing he'd been run over
by a truck.
And I was young and stupid then (maybe even stupider
than I would be in the later years, you know the ones
I'm talking about), so I didn't really know what the
hell had happened to me, and why it mattered so much
that I be around Crystal. Back then I didn't know what
lovers did after a kiss, and the word fuck was some
abstract thing that saying would make Eddie Murphy a
cool million but send me to the wall.
Of course to Crystal I was just a friend. "Just
friends"- two words that have broken young boys hearts
since the dawn of ages; at that point I think I figured
being just a friend was better than nuthin'.
Finally the fifth grade ended, everyone went their
separate ways. It took a couple of years before she
stopped monopolizing my waking mind. I grew up, left the
parents' nest and started a shaky career as a freelance
writer. Staring at the computer screen, typing in a
hunt-and-peck fashion night after night. Lot of times at
dawn my roommate Ian would return from a night of
partying to see me working on the same article I was
doing when he left.
One night I miraculously finished early and had no
deadline to meet. Hearing me exclaim this joy Ian threw
my jacket at me and said he was taking me out of the
loft.
"Ian we've been through this before; I'd be a dead
weight," but he wouldn't let it go; almost bodily
dragging me with him.
Sure enough, while Ian was dancing and laughing I was
standing in the corner nursing a punch. Ian makes
mingling look easy, when a brunette out nowhere
approached him he had no trouble talking to her. For a
second it looked like she was pointing in my direction,
but in my experience that usually meant the girl was
looking at someone else close by.
Like I said I felt I was just taking up space, just when
I made up my mind to leave I heard a woman's voice,
"Elvis is leaving the building", in a somewhat sarcastic
tone.
I turned around; the brunette that approached Ian was a
couple steps away. I looked around me just to make sure
she was addressing to me, that irritated her a bit if
the glare she shot was any indication "Yes I'm talking
to you, does that never happen or something?"
"No, not usually." I tried to smile, "I'm out of my
element at parties; I always end up feeling like Tweety
in a room full of Puddy Tats."
That got a laugh out of her, "You didn't use to be that
clever."
"Use to? When had you heard me before?"
"Yeah, Glenn's Rose Elementary."
I ran through my head all the people I could think of
from then until it hit me, "No fucking way!"
"Fuck yes," she shook her head, "I can see you're still
the stimulating conversationalist you were then."
Ouch. "Uh huh, if you remember me then, I'm surprised
you recognize me now."
Crystal shrugged, "I don't recall seeing you with
glasses."
"It'd have been strange if you did, I didn't start
wearing them till I was eighteen."
"Is that when the beer gut showed up?" She lightly
slapped me on the stomach.
"Pretty much, more like a burger and fries gut
actually." I stretched my shirt a bit to hide the spare
tire.
Crystal shook her head with a smile, "Ah. Well seeing as
you were just about to leave, where were you headed?"
"Oh probably to the loft, get something done."
""Why don't I come with, at least you'll look like
you're leaving with someone."
"Yeah, a hostage."
To teens a loft has a sort of romantic aura, a sign
they're going places. My loft is a dump, except it's too
barren to be a dump. No insulation or flooring, one big
room where the beds are separated from the rest (and
each other) by cubicle walls. When the yahoos come out
at night drinking, fighting and hollering you can hear
it all. The nearest bathroom is on the floor below and
on seeing it you might not have to go so bad.
"Welcome to my Castle," I steeped back and let her
through the door, "Is it everything you dread?"
"Count your blessings," Crystal took off her jacket,
then noticing there was no place to hang it up threw it
over her shoulder, "Least it's your own space, I had to
move back in with my parents."
"Ouch. Well I guess it's never so bad it can't get
worse," I walked over to the fridge and got two Pepsis
and a Johnny Walker; "There're some glasses in the big
box to your right" I called out.
We sat on the floor; I downed the first glass and my
face contorted, "Whoever said whisky is the water of
life never touched a drop."
Crystal didn't look much better from her glass, "So what
have you been up to the- how long ago was it?"
"I'm not sure, ten years at least. And I spent most of
them as a wallflower pretty much. What about you?"
"Oh, nothing really remarkable. I'm in university now,
I'll be taking an internship in Paris right soon."
Damn. "Then I guess it's good Ian dragged me to the
party tonight or this reunion might have never
happened," I raised my second whisky as a toast, "Well,
I hope you think you think of me in the city of lights."
"Tell you what, if I don't find a man among the
frenchies you will be in my thoughts during my vibrator
sessions."
"Uh-huhhh," Was I supposed to be flattered; even now I'm
not sure.
Crystal finished her third drink, "So which one's your
bed?"
"The one near the window. I keep it closed ever since
some guy on the street threw a soiled underwear through
it."
"I really didn't need to know that," but she fearlessly
walked me toward the 'room', removing an article of
clothing with each couple of steps. By the time she got
to the bed there was nothing left to remove.
Then it was my turn, my stomach; hell my whole digestive
tract including the gullet was bunched up in knots, she
deserved better than what was under my clothes. A LOT
better, "Uh, you might want a blindfold for this."
"Quit stalling," She had the kind of smirk usually
reserved for patrons of the Moulin Rouge, "Out of them.
Now."
I kept my eyes closed, thinking I'll never holler at
strippers to take it off again, I felt so embarrassed.
Once all that was left were the socks she stepped closer
and put a hand on my 'beer gut', "Now that wasn't so
hard, was it?"
I sat on the bed; more like my legs buckled and my ass
fell on the bed, Crystal knelt behind me on the mattress
and started to rub my shoulders. She also started
nuzzling the back of my neck; somehow I was able to
relax and, at the risk of being vulgar I 'stood to
attention'.
I turned around and gave Crystal a kiss. Not a tongue
kiss, I was too freaked out to try that; but she didn't
have any reservations, she slipped her tongue between my
lips and so far down she probably could have known what
my last meal was, all the while laying back on the
mattress and pulling me with her.
She did most of the work, pulling me forward; a lot of
it is a blur really. I remember most of the time; it
felt like forever, we hadn't broken the lip lock.
Probably the only reason that sunk in was when she
pulled back her tongue, threw her head back and just
moaned. That was enough to bring me to the brink.
The next thing I know it was noon and the sun lanced
into my eyes. I half-assed got up, and realized I was
alone! At first I thought it'd been a dream, until I
found her bra. I picked it up, thinking it kind of
strange she'd forget to put it on, but she hadn't
forgotten- written on the bra in lipstick was a little
goodbye,
'Didn't have the heart to wake you. I just wanted you to
know I had a great time last night, in case we never saw
each other again. If you're ever in Paris, look me up
before you leave, I'll be the one who shaves her
armpits. Crystal.'
The door was kicked open, Ian straggled in so loaded I
was surprised he could stand upright, "You know, I ran
into the hottest chick last night, and she kept asking
me about You! You lucky turd, I'll bet you left without
even talking to her."
"Actually I did talk to her. And more." I showed him the
memento she left.
"You brought her HERE? To this dump? What the hell were
you thinking?"
"Well it ain't like I got a suite reserved at the Ritz."
I snapped.
Ian just shrugged and then started to hit me up for
details I didn't really want to share, at least not with
a drunken prick. He finally got tired of my dirty looks,
"You know, maybe you wanna write about her, I know a
website that eats this shit right up!
What??
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 22