Chapter 17

Kristen and I ate at Vaughn's, which we were starting to think of as "our place," for dinner. Once again, I couldn't convince Kristen to order the Belly Buster dessert.

After dinner, we returned to Kristen's house, where the two of us spent the night together in Kristen's play room. It was a special time for the two of us, our first "night together" and we spent our time, hugging, kissing, nuzzling, and orally pleasuring each other.

I think I fell asleep first, because the last thing I remember that night was that I was holding Kristen in my arms. When I awakened in the wee hours of the morning, I noticed that Kristen had shifted position was sleeping in a near fetal position with her lips wrapped around my dick.

I looked at the lovely sight. I knew that Kristen was still asleep, but I could still feel her tongue occasionally swipe at my shaft or the tip.

I started to consider Kristen's addiction to my cock and to the sperm that it emitted. I know, for example, the I was directly responsible for Kristen's addiction, having used the lucky tickets to physically change her in some way. Her actions right now were a prime example of that: even while she was unconscious, her mouth still seemed to feel required to give me little lick every now and then.

When I had given Kristen that addiction, I had no idea that it would have had such a long-lasting effect on her. I had been thinking at the time that I'd humiliate her by making her have to come to me, repeatedly, and have to beg to service me. It was a power trip, pure and simple, fueled by my mistaken belief that Kristen had been responsible for breaking up the friendship I had with Patrice.

Almost immediately thereafter, I began to regret what I had done to Kristen. Had I really thought it proper to force Kristen to orally service me in front of my friends? And to add fuel to the fire, I actually turned her into a cock-junkie. At the time I did it, I really didn't consider the consequences.

Now my mind was dealing with some harsh realities. Despite the fact that Kristen and I were lovers now, her sucking at this very moment wasn't consensual. In fact, her conscious mind probably wasn't even aware that she was doing so. Isn't that a form of forcing a girl to have sexual relations?

I wasn't sure about the legal definition of rape in the state of Illinois, but it almost definitely would be the act of causing a person to perform sexual relations with another person without their consent.

I considered my use of my tickets to obtain sexual favors. From the start, I never once really considered getting the girls' consent. I had known that none of the girls that I used the tickets on would ever consider giving me their consent. Even my first use, inspecting Meredith's nude body while she slept, may even be considered to fit within that definition. And then there was Patrice and Marla. I never asked for their consent, either.

Then there was Patty, Camille, and Wendy. Once again, I didn't have their consent when I first glimpsed their nude bodies in the moonlight at Kneely Park, since I had forced their consent with the tickets.

Even if all most of those things could be said to be in the grey areas of the law, I do know that I had probably crossed the line in two circumstances.

The first time was with Patrice. Yes, I was naive, and I mostly wanted to get first hand knowledge about sex from somebody more mature than Meredith. And, I had done so while I was completely pissed off at Patrice for referring to me as a loser. I was going to show her, wasn't I?

There was no consent whatsoever from Patrice when she blew me that one time. She did so because she had no choice. I must have felt some sort of pangs of regret then, since I also forced her to forget the entire situation. So, despite the fact that I had covered my tracks with Patrice, it was almost definitely still rape.

Then there was Kristen.

My initial desire with Kristen, as with Patrice, was to simply humiliate her, but in a more public fashion. I forced her to blow me, then I made her addicted to my cock and its precious cargo, and then I sent her out topless, totally vulnerable to the entire world. That was definitely rape. And there were three witnesses to the event, three people that still knew about it and might even be called on as witnesses if the police were ever informed.

I only really felt any remorse about Kristen the next day, when I found that my forcing an addiction on her turned her into a cock-junkie, who could only get her fix by arranging my services through Patty, and knowing that she'd have to pay me each time she sucked me. I had never really considered that the power of those tickets was so strong that it could do something like that to a person in less than twenty-four hours.

I immediately felt guilty, but not directly for what I did to Kristen... but for making Patty mad at me because I had done it. I didn't really feel anything for Kristen, until I saw her there, the haughty princess brought down so completely to such a state where she was just standing there, her whole life almost completely shattered.

It was then, and only then, did I ever feel anything toward Kristen. She was lovely, but that wasn't important. It took me a few moments, but I realized that she was a human being, and didn't deserve to be treated like an animal. My heart finally went out to her, mostly to ask forgiveness, and also to attempt to make things better for her.

For the first time, somebody actually treated Kristen as a person... a friend. It was quite ironic that the person that became a friend to her was the same person that had defiled her, who had raped her. And she forgave me, and in her very fragile state, she even fell in love with me.

I was quite an amateur when it came to matters of the heart. But I had to ask myself, what is Kristen's love for me based upon? Was it the fact that she's still addicted to my dick and sperm? Or was it the fact that I held her when she needed to be held? How about the fact that I raped her and showed her how powerful I was? Wouldn't that have made her less receptive to me, of all people? So... what was the basis for her love?

For that matter, what's the basis for my love of Kristen? Of all the people in our little circle, three actually stood out as having a close relationship with me, and only one of them was Kristen.

One person was Patty, a person who was impressed by my power (using the tickets, of course) and gave herself willingly to me. She said her reason was that I had been the first person that had been able to allow her to achieve orgasm since a very traumatic rape she experienced. Her relationship with me bordered on love, but it wasn't the romantic love that she was now looking for. We did become very close friends, and she was the first person that I ever confided to about the tickets. She was now an important part of my life, and I feel honored that she liked me, even after seeing the nasty side of me that had defiled Kristen.

Another person I was close with was Patrice. I had known her for many years, and we had been friends up until she entered junior high. I used to confide in her, and we used to hang out together. Then she found new friends, and didn't have a place for me anymore. Thanks to Kristen and Patty, Patrice was back as a friend, but I noticed that she now tended to avoid me a bit. Could this have been due to the fact that she's one of the people that I consider may have been raped by me? I had told her to forget it, but what if she still somehow knew that there was some traumatic memory that is telling her to keep away from me... that I'm dangerous?

The third person, Kristen, is, of course, a friend and a lover, and the more I knew about Kristen, the more I found myself loving her. Isn't that true love? Surely, I wasn't the one to be able to know this, as it was my first time ever being in love romantically. My only knowledge of love was from stories, movies, and television shows. My mother and Patty told me that I was in love with Kristen, and they were more experienced than I was in these matters. Or were they?

Patty and Kristen became best friends right after the junkie incident. As I mentioned, Patty and I were also close friends. But what if Patty's reading of the situation was just wishful thinking on her part? What if I really wasn't totally head-over-heels in love with Kristen, but Patty had wanted that as a fairy tale ending to what she perceived to be Kristen's not-so-easy life?

Yesterday's outburst by Kristen told me that Kristen wasn't in a place where she could have doubts about our relationship. And, if what I felt toward Kristen wasn't true love, it seemed to be enough for her right now. Maybe I should just play it safe until Kristen became more comfortable with an expanding circle of genuine friends. That would probably be the safe move for now. Discussing my doubts with her would hardly be constructive for her at this point.

But also not telling her about my doubts would be dishonest with her. I had promised myself that I wouldn't hurt her, but what if telling the truth could hurt her? What was my obligation in this situation?

My mind kept running around in circles over that, until I felt increased suction on my penis, and saw the lovely Kristen's eyes were now open. I raised my head and said, and put my doubts and the conundrum aside. I smiled and said, "Good morning, Star Shine."

Kristen smiled and, with my dick still in her mouth, she started humming the chorus of that song:

"Gliddy glub glooby...

Nibby nabby nooby...

La la la lo lo!"

I giggled, thinking that the singer Oliver never imagined the nonsense words to be coming from a little blonde Goddess happily sucking my dick.

I thought about that song. It was from the Broadway musical "Hair" and, of course, just thinking about that musical's name reminded me of my own fondness of my running my fingers through Kristen's hair. I smiled as I caressed her head, and started playing with little strands of her hair. I found myself singing aloud, accompanied by Kristen's continued humming:

"Sabba sibby sabba,

Ooby abba nabba,

La la lo lo..."

Kristen raised her eyes to look at me, a sparkle showing in them, as I continued serenading her:

"Ooby ooby walla,

Ooby abba nabba...

Early morning singing song."

Kristen actually released my cock and said, "I love your singing voice. Until you sang for me that day in school, I never realized that you could sing, Jim."

"My singing voice is probably better suited as the voice of Kermit the Frog," I said, referring to Jim Henson's "Muppet" that appeared on Sesame Street and was seen more and more frequently as a guest on various variety shows on television.

"Don't put yourself down," Kristen said. "You are obviously gifted. Wendy says that Gerry told her that you put that whole music session together from scratch in less than twenty four hours!"

"Yeah, but I made Roy's mike louder than mine," I said, not feeling comfortable hearing praise like that. "It was his voice you were hearing, mostly. Not mine."

"Jim," Kristen smiled. "You just need a little more confidence."

Confidence. That was really what I lacked. Not so much about my singing voice, but in my feelings toward Kristen. Her outburst yesterday had shattered whatever confidence that I had before about our love, which was probably why all those doubts were now swimming in my head.

Kristen, unaware of the tempest inside my brain, looked back at my cock and went back to her sucking. I lay in bed, feeling Kristen's mouth on my cock, when an idea came into my head. I had to ask Kristen a question.

"Kris, what's your favorite food?"

Kristen looked down at my crotch, and lifted my erect penis. "Does this count?"

I forced a smile, and said, "Not really. You said I taste better than chocolate. Is that your favorite food?"

My beautiful blonde Goddess furrowed her head, thinking. "Yeah," she said, her eyes starting to mist. "My dad gets some of this stuff imported from--where is it?--Columbia? Peru? Wherever. It tastes like heaven."

I smiled. "How often do you get to eat it?"

Kristen shrugged. "Once a month or so. We have a tiny stash in the kitchen for special occasions."

"Anything else you like to eat? Besides me?"

"Why are you asking, Jim?"

I was ready for that question and had a pat answer. "I realized that there is a lot about you that I don't know. I want to know what you like to eat, what kind of movies you like. You know... everything that makes you so special."

Kristen rewarded me with one of her lovely smiles. "You're sweet, you know that? Let's see." Kristen paused, thinking. "You know the candy store in the mall?"

"Yeah," I said. "The one down the way from the food court."

Kristen closed her eyes. "They have these peanuts that are fresh roasted. You can smell them roasting a hundred yards away from the store. Anyway, the nuts are huge! I mean... not as huge as yours." Kristen giggled. "Anyway, they dip some of them in dark chocolate, making them into clusters. You can get a plastic container of them for a couple of dollars. Anyway, you put the container into the freezer, and when you feel like doing something special, you pull out a cluster of about four or five peanuts..." Kristen faded off, making yummy sounds.

I grinned, "You make it sound heavenly, Kris."

My little blonde Goddess giggled, crinkling her nose as she did so.

"So, do you like pizza?" I asked.

Kristen swooned again. "You mean like they make in the city? With the thick crust?"

"Yeah," I said. "I like that with pepperoni and sometimes some sausage also."

"Hmmm," Kristen nodded, "I could go for some breakfast sausage..." She lowered her head, and impaled her mouth on my rod, her lips almost reaching my aching balls.

I closed my eyes. The conversation had gone well. As always, I loved the feeling of Kristen deep throating me. She didn't do it all that often, and nobody had ever managed to swallow me to the depths that Kristen could take. It usually was a bit messy, due to all the saliva and mucous from her throat, but the sensations were always exquisite. And, of course, Kristen always made sure that my cock was squeaky clean afterward, giving it her utmost attention.

I thought back to the last time Patty tried practicing deep throat with me. She was still having problem with her gag reflex. In fact, her session came to an unexpected halt when she had to make a mad dash for the toilet, holding her mouth. (I hoped that nobody had seen her naked dash into and back out of the toilet; nothing was ever said to me about it, though.) I didn't think that Patty would be practicing with me any time soon, especially after Monday night, when my penis would return to its old, original, and unadulterated flavor for her.

The deep throat action stopped, and Kristen returned to her favorite style, simple suckling and licking vigorously around the tip and underneath the head.

I tried to reach Kristen's crotch to return the favor, but her body was positioned away from me. I had to be content with just caressing her lovely tresses, wondering if Kristen loved me playing with her hair and scalp as much as I enjoyed doing it.

We continued in the same vein for about a half hour, neither one of us achieving orgasm, or really trying to, either.

I had Kristen drive me to a flea market that was open on Sundays. She had never been to one before, and we simply walked hand in hand, looking at what people were selling or, perhaps, giving away.

I recognized more than a few of the sellers, having visited this place a few times every year. I saw a used flute, one of the few instruments that I didn't play too well and I stopped at that table to check it out.

"Do you play?" Kristen asked me when she saw me check out the instrument.

"A bit," I admitted. "It took me a while to get the hang of the mouth piece, but finally figured out how to direct my breath at the cutting edge properly."

The person at the table said, "You're Jim Crittenhouse, aren't you?"

I didn't recognize the person at all. "Yes, ma'am."

"And, oh, my. You're Kristen Swift!"

"Yes," Kristen admitted. Her eyes sparkled, apparently used to being recognized.

"My daughter is Shirley Lakewood. She used to be in band."

I remembered Shirley. She wasn't a great player, but she did try hard. "Hi, Mrs. Lakewood," I said. "I remember Shirley. Is this her instrument?"

"Yes," the lady said. "She's given up band, and moved onto Chorus now."

"She has a lovely voice, Mrs. Lakewood. I imagine she'll do well in the high school chorus."

"Thank you," Mrs. Lakewood beamed, proud of her daughter. "Are you interested in Shirley's instrument? We bought it used for $200. I was thinking of asking a hundred. But I know you'll get good use out of it. How about fifty dollars?"

A new flute would cost about $400, and this one looked in good condition. Even so, fifty dollars was out of my price range. "Sorry, Mrs. Lakewood. I was just admiring it."

"No problem. I really didn't expect to sell it today. But could you maybe play something on it?"

I felt a little embarrassed. It had been about a half year since I had actually played a flute, and I wasn't all that sure if I would get the fingering correct on the first try.

I picked up the flute gingerly, and looked at the mouthpiece. It seemed pretty clean. I put my fingers on the levers and flexed my fingers. One or two levers needed oil, but they still worked all right.

Luckily, the flute is pitched in "C" instrument, which meant that my innate sense of pitch wouldn't work against me.

I decided to play something simple, and I entertained my lovely Goddess with the flute solo from "Colour My World." My fingers never lost their memory of how to play the flute, and soon after, I decided to play something by ear, and did the recorder solo from "Playground in my Mind," a hit from the previous year that made Kristen smile.

"You play very nice," Mrs. Lakewood said. "Shirley could never get a vibrato like you manage to get."

I shrugged thanked Mrs. Lakewood, and disassembled the flute, opening the case and putting it away properly.

When I turned around, I was surprised that I had a little crowd around me. I felt like I did when I was nine years old, being allowed to play the piano at the Wurlitzer store in the mall, and having people come into the store to listen to the little prodigy play, a technique that the sales people used to show how "just about anybody" could play their pianos.

Kristen saw my grimace at the attention that I had received, and took my hand as we bade Mrs. Lakewood good-bye.

"How many instruments can you play?" Kristen asked.

"That's a trick question," I pointed out. "Knowing the fingering to a flute, for example, allows you to play the piccolo as well, although it's a matter of degree, since the size difference makes it a bit different."

"You play trombone in the band at the school, right?"

"Yeah," I grinned.

"And you also play piano and trumpet. Do you play guitar?"

"Nope," I shook my head. "Never got the hang of any stringed instrument."

Kristen grinned, crinkling her nose. "Well, we found your one weakness, Super-Jim!"

"Second weakness," I said, smiling back. "My first and biggest weakness is a lovely blonde Goddess that goes by the name of 'Kristen.'"

That earned me a smooch on the cheek.

Later on, Kristen excused herself to use the bathroom, and I checked out a couple of other tables that didn't seem interesting to Kristen. She came back a few minutes later, and we walked around, once again holding hands.

I heard a familiar squeal, and turned to find Merry at a nearby table looking at some sort of thing for tying pony tails. I looked around, and found my mother and step-father weren't too far from Merry. They noticed us, and waved hi.

I decided that we should at least say "hello," and we walked to where Merry was busy pawing through a box of material.

"Hi Kristen, hi Jim," my mother said, smiling. There was no trace of anger in her voice, surprising me just a little.

"Hello, Mrs. Cummings," Kristen said.

"Hi, Mom!"

"Meredith... look who's here!" my step-father said.

Merry looked up from her box of treasures and squealed once again when she saw Kristen. "Kris! I can't believe you're here!"

Kristen and I moved closer to Merry, and I picked her up a few inches, planting a kiss on top of her head. "Hiya, Shortcake!" I said.

Merry squirmed to get out of my grip and ran to Kristen and hugged her.

"So, Meredith," Kristen asked. "What were you looking at?"

"Oh, Kris," Merry said. "You've gotta take a look at these!" She dragged Kristen by the arm to the box that had captured her attention a few moments earlier.

"New outfit," my mother noticed.

"Yeah," I said. "A gift from Kristen's dad and mom."

"You know, Jim... you'd never wear something like that if I picked it out for you."

"Aww, mom!" I said.

My mom looked pleased, however. "I didn't expect you and Kristen to be here," she said.

I grinned. "Kris has never been to a flea market. She thought it was a place to find used pets!"

"That's an old joke, Jim," my step-father said, not looking up from a fishing tackle box that had captured his attention at a nearby table, just like Merry's box of whatevers had captured hers.

"Well, Kristen hasn't heard some of the old jokes," I said in my defense.

Merry came running toward me. "Jim! Look!" She had a handful of those elastic fabric things. "All I could grab for fifty cents!"