Bearing that in mind, she drifted off into pleasant slumber.
Morning leveled its ugly face much too soon. Crystal flinched at the brilliance of the sun's rays as they filtered through her mini blinds. She cursed her failure to draw them the previous night. The moon's glow had lent romance to her evening with Pete, precluding that motion. She loved having that wonderfully eerie light seep through the plastic slats.
Crystal rose from her bed, retaining the bubble of the night's sex. No matter how late the hour their feverish couplings took them, Crystal awoke renewed. Her body hummed with delight.
She gazed adoringly at Pete. He was a magnificent study of satyrism. Stretched on his back, his muscled thighs thrown apart and arms draped protectively, he resembled an animal poised for attack. His peaceful features gave the impression of him blinking in an instant and assuming a ferocious look.
Crystal wasn't going to disturb his rest. Pete worked diligently to keep her career on track. He was entitled to his share of shut eye. She left the bedroom quietly. Now that she was up, she was anxious to get on with her day.
The first order was to shower. Crystal abhorred being dirty. She took several showers a day, just to feel fresh.
A while later, after Crystal entered her kitchen and saw the telephone, she bit her bottom lip. She had avoided talking with her sister, Sharon, for several weeks. Their lack of conversation was largely attributable to their delicate relationship. To date, Crystal hadn't mentioned a word about her new video career. Sharon had no knowledge of her role at Wildwood Productions. Crystal had fabricated a story about picking up modeling work while in Los Angeles. Sharon, having no cause to challenge her sister, accepted her version at face value. Crystal didn't have a clue how to break the ice and disclose the truth. Sharon was a purebred housewife; to be told her younger sister fucked and sucked before a camera would not only appall her, but send shock waves through the wire.
No, the truth was a regrettable affair. Crystal thought it best to maintain the pretense of a budding prototype than subject her sister to torrid fact.
Should she give Sharon a ring? They certainly had enough catch-up to do. Crystal longed for voices of the past. Sharon was her last link to her origins. She had no other family. Their parents had perished in an auto accident while they were teenagers. After being raised by various aunts and uncles, they went their own way.
Without permitting herself extensive time to consider her decision, Crystal snatched up the receiver and dialed the number. She and Sharon had their differences-what sisters didn't-yet her wanting to share recent experiences overcame that obstacle.
Sharon answered on the third ring. She lectured Crystal on beginning a phone conversation almost winded. It was more desirable to launch dialogue loosened, rather than annoy the caller with gasps and sighs. "Hello?"
"Hi, Sharon, it's Crystal."
"Oh, hi." Her tone lacked warmth. Sharon had a long memory-comparable to an elephant. If someone snubbed her, she added that person's name to a list and it could only be deleted after an inexorable amount of time.
"It's been a while, eh?" Crystal injected cheer.
"I suppose."
"Oh, come on, Sharon. Get off it. Sorry I've not kept in touch. I've been busy getting my career on its feet."
Sharon relented. "How is Hollywood? Rubbing elbows with any stars?"
Crystal deliberately omitted the kind of rubbing she was doing. "I guess. You never know who you're around half the time. People don't exactly identify themselves. Most hide behind sunglasses, or dress grubby just to escape prying eyes." She cleared her throat. The purpose of her call wasn't to boast about her environment-she wanted news of home. She yearned for scraps about her two little nieces, or Sharon's husband, Bob. "How's everything?"
"About the same. If we're not running Janie to ballet lessons, we're carting Pammy to Girl Scouts. Being a parent today is comparable to being recruited as a chauffeur. Juggling two schedules like that is so stressful. One moment we're at school, or on the soccer field, or even at piano lessons. Sometimes, I get so confused where I have to be, it's not funny. I suppose that's why God created Daily Planners." She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Oh, and we have a new dog-a Dalmatian."
"How nice."
"The girls insisted upon giving him-Nicholas-to Bob for Christmas. Nicholas was derived from St. Nick. Cute, eh? Hell, you know the repercussions of bringing another pet into the house-they become an extension of Mom's duties, not Dad's. I get to walk that beast twice a day, in addition to feeding and bathing it. Thank God I get up at the crack of dawn. I've already washed and waxed the floor, done the laundry and ironed half my clothes. If I'm lucky, I might be able to slip in a chapter or two of that new Danielle Steele book before I'm off and running again."
Domesticity sure sounded swell to Crystal. She would have loved settling down and forgetting about achieving notorious repute as a porn star. She could honestly care less if she made another video. Having Pete by her side was of greater importance. She couldn't picture him buying into the concept of the white frame house with the picket fence, but given time, Pete would invariably wish for those simple, wholesome values.
The lengths Crystal went to for love were incredible.
Crystal's rumination was interrupted by a harsh cry at the end of the line. "Owwwwwwwww! My dog just bit me! Bad dog, Nicholas! Mommy doesn't like that! Sit or lay down!" The receiver was muffled for a moment, then Sharon's voice returned. "Christ! I've thought about renaming the little bastard. Nicodemas or Nostrodamus is far more suitable to his character."
"Maybe I ought to go," Crystal hedged.
"I'll be fine. He didn't break skin-just a surface cut. I suppose I shouldn't give him my old pairs of slippers to munch on. The stupid animal forgets which ones are his, and whether or not my feet happen to be inside them. Oh, well. Tell me about Pete. Has he found employment, too?"
Crystal held her breath. "He's been involved in a job search."
"Hmmmmmmm. Seems he's been searching for his niche since you've known him. Frankly, honey, I don't know why you bother. He's a loser. He may be cute, but he'll never bring home the bacon."
Crystal yearned to tell her sister about the fabulous contract Pete negotiated for her with Wildwood Productions, but that meant divulging her secret.
"You've got him all wrong, Sharon. Pete's a wonderful provider. He's taken on several part-time jobs, if only to make ends meet. As a matter of fact-" Her eyes shifted to the door, where Pete emerged. The sleepy look on his face was rapidly fading as he took inventory of her naked body bent against the counter. She waved, but when he didn't return her greeting and instead rambled over to her, she knew exactly what he wanted.
"What kind of jobs?" Sharon sneered. "Pizza delivery?"
"You're not being fair." Normally, Crystal's defense would have been more thorough, but Pete's inquisitive touch disabled her emotions. Crystal shivered in anticipation of what he was attempting to do. He grazed her bare butt while caressing her trim thighs. God, she had to halt him from going farther-she didn't want to shock her sister. "He has done some messengering, but for a lawyer. He's even done some process serving with subpoenas."
Sharon snickered. "Does he have a clue what he's doing? I mean, Pete doesn't strike me as being exceptionally bright. His brains, from my recollection, don't exist in his head."
Pete's thumb ran along the crack of her ass, savoring every naked inch. She was synchronized to his horny vibrations, perceiving them through his touch. Helplessly, she pushed his hand away, only to have it reinstated. "You're certainly not one to extend credit."
"Can you blame me? He's dragged you to the opposite side of the country to seek fame and fortune. That ambition seems old to me. Nobody makes it just like that. You need education and experience to cut it in today's world."