How Crissy Got His Groove Back

[Alana]

"We're not going to dinner," he said.

"Stop it. We are, too. You're not the one in charge, here."

"I'm the man. Of course I'm in charge."

"You don't even have the money to pay the bloody bill."

"Take off your dress."

"I don't take orders from you."

"The bloody hell you don't!"

He roughly grabbed my dress right at the cleavage, and with one quick rip he tore it almost completely in two!

I was shocked! I stared at him, gobsmacked! He was so strong!

"My dress!" was all I could say.

I was scared. But I was also very turned on. So I didn't even try to stop him when he grabbed me by the back of the neck and finally kissed me for the first time. I grabbed his neck, too. The first time I ever kissed a man, or at least a boy, and it was a kiss to end all kisses! I plunged my lips onto his, our tongues found each other, and I felt myself being scooped up into his powerful arms. He lifted me as though I were a tiny little waif, and I felt like one in his arms. He took me to the bedroom.

We made love. I'll leave most of that to your imagination. It involved two of my orifices, two that men and women both have. I kept my bra and pants on, but he pulled down my tights and my pants just a little bit at the back to allow him access. He accidentally tore my tights at the waistband.

I'd never done that with a man, or a boy, before. It was amazing how quickly I took to it. As Joey got up off the bed, I put on my silk robe and let my eyes roam about his finely chiseled features, his muscular physique. I was bathed in something they call the afterglow, and so was he. I could've spent the rest of my life in that bed, looking at him, drinking him in, loving him.

[Alana]

But we had dinner reservations. And I was wearing torn tights. I got up and headed for my closet.

"Where are you going, beautiful?"

"Where do you think I'm going? To put on a dress, for dinner. Try not to tear this one off me."

[Alana]

"Crissy---"

I left him, and took a moment to change out of my tights. I put on stockings and suspenders. I also put on some jewelry. I looked in my closet, but couldn't decide which dress to wear. I grabbed two of them and came back in.

"Which dress should I wear?" I asked. "I know you've seen me in my fuchsia lace dress before, but I also know how much you love it. I'll wear it if you like, but I think for a fancy place like 'Les Petite Maison' I should wear something elegant, like my white dress. I've got a hat that goes with it. Let me try it on for you. You can decide a lot better if you see me in it. How much time do we have? When's our reservation?"

[Alana]

"There's no reservation. Please sit down, Crissy."

I dropped the dresses. I sat down on the edge of the bed.

"No reservation?"

"Please understand, darling. I can't be seen with you in that restaurant. I'm still in school. If the other blokes found out about it, I'd never live it down. I'm sorry."

My eyes started to fill with tears, but I wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction. I turned away.

"It will be different," he said, "once you've had the operation."

"What operation? Oh, not you too! Why does the whole bally world want me to---"

I stood up.

"Get out!" I exclaimed. "Just get out! You tear my dress off, you ravage me, you tear my tights, and now you're ashamed to even be seen with me! Shame on you for treating a woman that way! Get out!"

He stood and said, "I'm sorry."

"Just go."

He left, and I immediately regretted what I'd blurted out. I almost called out for him to come back, but the words caught in my throat. I went and looked at myself in the mirror.

So what if he wanted to keep this thing private? So what if he wanted to keep his other girlfriend? So what if I was the other woman? At least I was a woman. Why couldn't I be patient with him? After all, I hadn't even wanted to kiss him at all, at first. He had been patient with me, hadn't he? Why shouldn't I be patient and understanding with him? Eventually he'd see that he was being silly. Of course we could go out on a date together. Of course we could.

I heard him down below. I looked out into the backyard. He was right there, looking up at my bedroom window. He seemed just physically unable to leave.

"Oh, you're not over me, Joey. You'll never be over me."

I picked up my white dress and slipped it on. I put on the matching hat that went with it. Then I went downstairs to see my lover.

I met him on the back porch. He approached tentatively.
   
"Hello," he said. "I see you went with the white dress."

"I did, yes. Do you like it, darling? Tell me the truth."

"Truthfully, I wish you'd worn that sexy fuchsia lace dress."

"Honey, don't you know by now, when a woman asks you to tell her the truth, that means lie like you've never lied before."

"Sorry, it just doesn't do anything for me."

"It's OK. I won't be wearing it much longer, anyway."

He grabbed me and kissed me, forcing my back against the glass door. I reached out for the door handle, before he pushed me right through the glass.

"My dresses have zippers, you know. You don't have to rip them apart to get at me."

As he was kissing me, he reached behind my back and unzipped me.

"What are we going to do about dinner? Aren't you hungry?"

"Only for you, darling," he said.

We never made it to the bedroom, that time.
   
THE END