A bit awkward (start of Chapter 3)

It is later than I usually wake, but still before eight when I open my eyes and see the beautiful young woman sprawled out naked on the bed beside me. Unlike last Saturday when I slipped away before Alison woke, this morning I have nowhere to go. If this were one of the porn stories on the internet, I would certainly have immediately tuned my attention to another round with the pretty coed, but sadly life doesn't work that way. Even with the help of medication, I doubt I'll be able to get it up for days.

Instead, I lie there wondering what the Hell I'm doing. The sex is great, and it is a little scary how much overlap there is between what the two of us find arousing, but the fact remains that I am taking advantage of a woman over thirty years younger than me. This situation would be bad enough if we had met somewhere at a party, but with what Covid did to Alison's finances she really didn't really have a choice in the matter. I have just resolved to put an end to this craziness when her doe-eyes open and slowly focus on my face. As memories of last night's activities start to surface, I see a contented smile grow until she finally breaks the silence with a contented sigh.

“Last night was pretty amazing, Mr. P.” She rests her hand on my shoulder and squeezes my arm gently. “Dinner, this hotel ... I would be your personal fantasy any time you wanted.” Just like that, my decision to put an end to this May December relationship is kicked away. Am I really doing Alison any harm?

We eat breakfast outside on the nearly empty restaurant patio. It is just as well that there aren't any others around, because in the light of day it is pretty clear that this old man took his much younger lover and fucked the crap out of her sexy body. We don't even have any clothes to change into so to anyone who cared it looks pretty clear that we came to this hotel straight from the office.

“What are we going to try next week, Mr. P?” I almost on the eggs Benedict I was enjoying when Alison turns her attention to the next chapter in our odyssey. “Those books were pretty cool, but I bet you have other fantasies you'd like to try ... don't you?” I'm not really sure what to say, I do of course have a lifetime of wicked fantasies tucked away in the dark recesses of my imagination, but I'm not used to sharing these private thoughts.

“Come on, Mr. P,” Alison nibbles on juicy slice of cantaloupe as she studies me carefully. “I know you have a thing for cheerleaders, what about princesses? Michelle told me that her boyfriends go nuts when she wears her sexy Disney Princess outfits.” The thought of someone as sweet and pretty as Alison as my own personal Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty to strip and lead to my bed certainly has its appeal and I almost miss what Alison is saying. “Dr. Lark says that Walt Disney exploited just about every possible trope to excite the male libido when he created his movies.” You can just imagine what the Woman's Studies professor had to say about those classic movies. She's not wrong, but having heard the woman speak, you suspect that she has a pretty annoying way of attacking the movie studio even though these themes are as old as the fairy tales themselves.

“You were a teacher, Mr. P. Did you ever want to bang one of your students?” When I stammer out my protest that my students were young, mostly freshmen and sophomores she waves away my protests impatiently. “What about a shy, private-school student like I was?” She raises an eyebrow suggestively, “I still have the uniform. You know, the white blouse, plaid skirt with ribbons in her hair...” Her big eyes meet mine unflinchingly and she makes it clear that she is not completely innocent on this particular topic.

“I remember the way men would stare at me on the city bus, Mr. P, back when I wore one of those uniforms every day. Even as inexperienced as I was back then, I still knew what would happen to me if I ever sat with those men in the back of that bus.” You can well imagine how a pretty teenager in a pleated skirt, white blouse and knee socks would make any man look twice. You've seen more than a few videos of Japanese students being groped and fingered by gangs of perverts while taking public transportation. For a few seconds your mind drifts into dangerous territory.

“Mr. P?” You look up to see that Alison is waiting for a response to an unheard query.

“Sorry, Angel,” I lift my fork and access the Benedict sauce drip from the eggs admiring the perfect smooth texture, “I never could make this sauce without having it break. What was your question?”