Exit Crystal, Enter Pam

   The formality took place ten days later.  I saw Crystal for the first 
time since the end of dinner, when she stopped at my place Thursday 
night.  She had cut her hair, wearing it in a sensible, conservative, 
straight, business-style which stopped just above her shoulders.  She was 
wearing the same floral print dress she had worn when I first met her.  
"Ummm... hi.  I'm sorry, butmyfolkstookmetoBarbadoswiththemand..."  I 
motioned for her to come in, which interrupted her diarrhetic speech.  
"Ummm... I'm kind of in a hurry," she said.

   She hesitated, and I broke in.  "Look, we both know what you're going 
to say, so why don't you just come in and say it.  Then you can leave."  
Somewhat testily, I added, "Or don't you trust me anymore?"

   Crystal lowered her head, trying not to look at me.  The county girl 
that had vanished a while ago had returned, and stood before me.  
Everything was as it had been, including the ridiculous amount of makeup 
she used to wear.  "I... ummm... guess I like you, Don, but, ummm... 
like, it's not good to have a relationship based on... ummm... ummm... 
sex.  Itjustwouldn'twork."  Crystal spit the last sentence out in a 
bigger hurry than usual, as if it was a distasteful thing she had to do.  
Suddenly, surprisingly, she raised her head, and looked me dead in the 
eye.  "Please... don't hate me.  I won't ever forget you.  I'm sorry, 
but..."  The words just hung there.  Finally, Crystal said, "I gotta go, 
I have a date."

   "Goodbye, Cryssie," I said quietly, sadly, closing the door slowly on 
her.  So, I was single again.  No big deal.  Why did I feel abandoned?  
Fortunately, the band's schedule went into overdrive, leaving no time to 
brood.  We started playing four nights a week, which meant that three 
nights were reserved for getting rest.

   "I heard you broke up with her," Pam said, patting me sympathetically.  
It had been two weeks, and I hadn't really dealt with it, except to 
ignore it.

   I shrugged stoically.  "It just wasn't meant to be, Pam, but I hear 
that things are going well for you."  She had been going out with 
somebody now for a couple of months, and had seemed real happy about it.  
It wasn't anything I didn't already know, but it did let me change the 
subject, and I tuned out Pam's enthusiastic response, nodding blankly as 
the words flew on by.

   The next time we played at that club, Pam was drinking heavily after 
work.  "Men SUCK!" she loudly announced to those of us who were left in 
the club.  "I hate them!  They lie to you, then they go fuck some OTHER 
cunt!!!"  The owner told her to take Saturday off, and Pam ordered 
another double shot.  The bartender cut her off and tried to calm her 
down.  Pam grabbed her purse, and loudly proclaimed that she was going to 
go somewhere else where they'd serve her and fuck all of you and...  Of 
course, she promptly fell, but I was there to catch her.

   "You're not going anywhere but home.  You're too drunk to drive, so 
I'm going to take you home and let you..."

   Pam slapped me -- _hard_.  "Why?  So you can fuck me and leave too?"  
She pulled out of my grasp and staggered into the side of the bar, 
bouncing and almost falling again.  I put her back on her unsteady feet 
once more, and grabbed her arms.

   "I'm taking you home, so you don't hurt yourself any more than you 
already have, understand?"  I growled, aware that her alcohol-induced 
hysteria would go away sometime within the next four hours.  "I will not 
take no for an answer, this is not open for discussion, got it?"  Yeah, I 
was pissed, but only Pam could have gotten away with hitting me the way 
she had.  My cheek still stung, and I dug my hands into her arms a little 
harder than I had to.  The remaining people in the club were aware of the 
somewhat unique relationship Pam and I currently shared, so they all just 
watched the drama unfold.  "And, yes, I accept your apology, bitch, but 
this is the last time you'll ever do something like that to me."
   
   The last sentence seemed to take the fight out of her.  Somewhere 
through the fog, she realized exactly what she had done, and whom she had 
done it to.  Pam got all mushy, slurring apologies, hanging on me the way 
drunk people do because they have no muscle tone, and I eased her out the 
door, much to everybody's relief.

   When we got to her apartment, she invited me in.  "No.  I'm not much 
for drunken grudge fucks, Pam.  You know that," was my response.  
Frankly, she was just a little bit repulsive at that moment.  Pam got out 
of the car and begged.  Loudly.  I sighed, and gave in to keep her from 
waking the whole neighborhood.  "But, we are _not_ going to have sex," I 
warned her sternly.

   Pam gave me a hot, wet kiss and fondled my crotch as soon as her front 
door had closed.  She stroked the erogenous zones on my neck and head, 
knowing from experience how to turn me on.  I gave up my futile 
resistance.  She had gone from drunken and repulsive to drunken, but 
incredibly hot and willing in a span of three minutes or so.  And me 
without my Crystal safety net.  I just _knew_ I'd hate myself in the 
morning.  Pam staggered back to her bedroom (good thing it was a 
straight, relatively uncluttered line from the living room), pulling me 
along behind her.  We flopped onto the bed, kissing as we had many times 
several months earlier, when I suddenly got an idea.  I began to massage 
her back, firmly, but caringly, under the guise of removing her clothes.  
I managed to get out of her reach, and started kneading her delicious 
back.

   Pam caught on.  I knew from experience that a moderately firm back 
massage could put Pam on the edge of sleep.  "Ohhh... nooo... _fuck_... 
meee," she protested, voice thick and slurred, but it was too late.  My 
massage had its usual effect on her.  Aided by the alcohol, Pam was 
asleep (passed out?) about a minute later.  I went to sleep next to her 
fully dressed, contemplating the irony of it all; I had just given a sexy 
blonde a back rub to get her out of the mood, and stay _out_ of her 
pants.  "Damn," I thought, "can't I get _anything_ right?"

   Pam was extremely hung over the next day.  She asked me to stay, so I 
comforted her as best I could while she told me what had caused last 
night's incident.  Pam had walked in on Bill, her (now ex-) boyfriend 
Thursday night after work, and caught him fucking somebody else.  "I 
wasn't supposed to come over after I left the club, but I thought I'd 
surprise him," she sniffled.

   "You deserve better anyway, Pam," I said, hugging her and kissing her 
lightly on the forehead.  "Now go back to bed, turn off the lights, and 
sleep it off.  Dave gave you the night off," I said quietly.  Pam didn't 
remember, but she was relieved to hear it.  She went back in the bedroom, 
so I left and got ready for Saturday night's show.  About ten minutes 
before close, Pam walked into the club.

   "I had to come get my car," she explained as I started to load the 
equipment.  Stopping me, she said quietly, "Come over when you get done."  
I hadn't heard her use that voice in a long time.  An hour later, Pam was 
kissing her way down my naked body.  She spent a lot of time at my 
nipples, alternately using her tongue, and nipping at them.  She would 
stop and suck on them for a little while before resuming her aggressive 
foreplay.  She remembered how to send me into orbit.  "Lie still," she 
instructed in a whisper.  "Let me do _everything_ tonight, Don."  Pam 
rubbed my swollen penis gently, then ran her tongue around it.

   She played with my erection for a while, interrupting her wet blowjob 
with long enough pauses to keep me in suspense.  After Pam decided she 
was done with that, she ran her tongue slowly from the bottom of my 
balls, along the underside of my cock, right to the tip.  Then she 
flicked her tongue in and around the opening.  My cock bobbed 
impatiently.  Pam sat up and removed her oversized band tee-shirt, and 
let me gaze at her naked perfect body, with its smooth curves, firm, 
perfectly formed and proportioned breasts, and the downy blonde hair that 
glistened with reflected moisture.  Her taut, well-muscled thighs were 
also slightly damp.  My eyes feasted upon her, sexual hunger replacing 
every thought.  Pam spread her legs, and masturbated herself on my 
erection, gliding her wet triangle over my aching cock.

   "Pa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ammmm," I groaned.  She smiled, stopped her aided 
masturbation, and lifted my cock at the base, pointing it straight up, 
then positioned herself over it.  My cock touched the entrance to 
ecstasy, but Pam pushed at my chest with her other hand, so I lay still, 
touching, but not passing through that entrance.  Pam smiled at me, 
silent, no mischief in her eyes, for an eternity; then she eased my cock 
into her, sitting down with excruciating deliberation, until she landed 
on my hips with a contented purr.  Yes, it was worth the wait, and 
getting there had been half the fun.  She moved her hips leisurely and 
closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips, kneading my chest gently 
with her fingers, while her tropical walls kneaded my long-ignored (since 
Crystal) cock.  I was really close to the point of no return.  I gasped 
her name.  She opened her eyes, regarding me dreamily.  I wasn't wearing 
a rubber, I realized in shock.  Pam just smiled, kneaded my cock a little 
more vigorously with her inner walls, and I no longer cared as my 
friend/lover firmly pushed a finger just below my asshole.

   The loud noise I made was cut off by Pam's kiss, as she explored my 
mouth lovingly while my toes curled; I hadn't told Crystal about my "cum 
switch," as Pam had named it.  Pam sat down as hard as she could, 
grinding against me, keeping me from bucking, kissing me constantly.  She 
continued her gentle hidden massage of my softening cock, prolonging my 
orgasm well past the end of ejaculation, sending me to nirvana.

   Pam leaned forward again and wrapped her arms around me.  "Sleep with 
me," she commanded in a gentle whisper, my erection returning as she 
massaged my cock inside her.  She rubbed her body, warm and slick with 
sweat, against mine, adorning my body with gentle brushes of her lips, 
purring, and making quiet, soothing noises.  I had again become erect; 
she still held me inside her, but I was very sleepy.  Pam's gentleness, 
and soothing aura overwhelmed my desire, and I slept, deep and dreamless.

   Pam and I became lovers again, for a week.  Sometimes she'd give as 
she had that first night, other times the apartment would echo with her 
joyful cries as I ministered to her needs and desires.  We buried our 
pain and our frustration under sheer physical pleasure.  Our knowledge of 
each other's bodies, and skill at manipulating each other's senses made 
it easy.  Our crazed hedonistic games ended the following Sunday, after 
we spent the whole afternoon thrusting animalistically at one another.  
Her anger and hurt over Bill, and my frustrations about Crystal had 
vanished in the addictive haze of great sex.  "I love you, Don," Pam said 
as I got ready to leave her home that night.  "I think you understand 
what I mean," she finished.

   "Yeah, baby doll, I do.  If you ever need anything, let me know.  I 
promise that I will do whatever I can to make it better for ya," I 
answered, knowing that she would do the same for me.  We hugged for a 
long time before I walked out the door.  I have not had sex with Pam 
since that afternoon; we don't talk about that week at all.  Pam and I 
are -- intimately linked, without being lovers, much to the awe of people 
who only know one of us.  They don't understand why we don't get married.  
We know it wouldn't work, and some things are too good to risk on 
overexposure.