Krystal came home around 11 a.m. I was sitting in the den, reading some of the Hollywood tabloids on my iPad and having a cup of coffee.
“Are you sick?” she asked as she came through the door.
“No. Worse.”
“What’s wrong?”
She sat down beside me and I told her the whole sordid story. Tears began to flow again. Krystal hugged me and I sobbed into her shoulder.
She handed me a tissue. “What did Max say?”
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“He’s gonna be pissed.”
I nodded as I wiped my eyes.
“At least you’re not in my situation,” she said.
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, Olivia. You know.”
I looked down at my hands that were balling the tissue anxiously.
She said, “You saw the DVD. You saw me come in the other day after staying up all night on coke.”
“Jesus, Krystal. Cocaine?”
She nodded and shrugged, and told me everything. It was a confession of sorts, almost like I was a priest and she was a parishioner. I listened with sympathy, and at one point I grabbed her hand as she started to cry.
“I got mixed up in this because of the money,” she explained. “Now…I can’t get out. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why can’t you just stop?”
“And do what?” Her voice came out with more than a little touch of frustration, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “I’ll never get a real acting job. I’m fucked.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I really am,” she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out forcefully through pursed lips. “I’m in debt. Big time.”
It was the drugs. She was getting paid to do porn, but a big chunk of it had been going to feed her coke habit. Then she started getting it on “credit” with the dealer, and now, to my horror, she was sitting there telling me she owed the guy about twenty thousand.
It turns out the dealer was also the guy hooking her up with various porn gigs. It was almost like he was a pimp, I thought. And then, just as that thought entered my mind, she said that’s what the guy had in mind for payback. He was going to pimp her out.
“Holy shit” was the only reaction that came to mind. What the hell had she gotten herself into? “It isn’t Marco, is it?” I had met that guy weeks ago when I walked in on the two of them just as they were probably getting ready to have sex in the den. It didn’t take me long to pick up on his creepiness.
“No, not him,” she said. “He’s got his own problems. I haven’t even talked to him in like a week or so.”
“Can you just…leave? I mean, go back to Ohio? Get away from here?”
She shook her head. “And, what? Go back to my parents’ house? Ha. Very funny.”
“I didn’t mean that, I just—”
“I know,” she said, “I’m sorry.”
We sat there for a little while longer, commiserating with each other. Here we were, two Midwestern girls trying to make it in the big city, both now totally screwed by failure.
Later, around 5:30, Max came to get me.
Krystal was in her room taking a nap. She’d been in there for almost two hours. I told Max before we left I needed to check on her. I cracked the door just a little, saw that she was facing away from the door. She was sleeping, breathing deeply, and was probably getting the only rest and relaxation she’d had in a while. I decided to leave her a note on the kitchen counter.
“Coming down off a high?” Max said.
I looked up from the paper. “You have no idea.”
“What is it?”
I folded up the paper and laid the pen on top of it. “I’ll tell you later.”
We got to Max’s house and the first thing he did was run a warm bath. We lathered each other up. I faced him as he massaged the shampoo into my scalp, and I massaged his cock.
It started when he told me to tilt my head back so he could rinse my hair. “Hold on so you don’t fall.”
Instead of reaching for his shoulders or his waist, I took his semi-hard erection into my hand.
He laughed. “That should work.”
“Gee, I wonder if that’s what you wanted me to do all along.”
“No.”
My mouth dropped open. “What? Fine, then.”
“If I wanted you to do that, I would just tell you to.”
“Oh really.”
He looked at me. “Touch it, Olivia.”
The warm water sluiced through my hair and ran down my back in soapy waves, and Max got fully hard in my hand. I loved how it got longer and thicker under my touch. When I looked down I saw now that he had grown to a length that broke the surface, with at least half of him straight up out of the water.
“Like a periscope,” I joked.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Maybe you should do stand up comedy.”
“You think?”
“No.”
I squeezed him—hard.
“Easy now.”
Max pulled me against him and I slipped my hand away. His erection was pressed against my stomach—slipping and sliding around on it—making me want it inside me.
He pressed his lips to mine, pulling my tongue into his mouth, then sucking on it like I sucked when his cock was in my mouth.
Max kissed his way down my neck, then across the top of my chest. He pulled me closer, up onto his lap. His erection was perfectly notched in my cleft and I just wanted him to do it, do it, do it…
But he didn’t. He teased me, rocking his hips as he moved me back and forth so I was sliding along the length of his cock. Which, honestly, was almost enough to make me come by itself. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to come with him inside me.
I pressed my face to the top of his wet head as he sucked on my nipples.
“I hate not being inside you, Olivia.”
“Then do it.”
“Not just now,” he said. “Always. I wish I could be inside you all day, every day.”
And with those words, he shifted a certain way and entered me. I moved my hips to ease him in. Each time we did this, I loved the way he stretched my tightness.
This was slow, sensual sex. It was more like making love than fucking. I wondered if he felt that way, too, but I didn’t dare ask him. I feared not getting the response I wanted to hear.
And as I thought about that—while sliding up and down on him—my eyes started to tear up a little.