Make her strip

“How's this for a fantasy, Mr. P?” Alison grins up at me from the floor. “This sweet little schoolgirl will do anything to keep you from telling what she did.”

“I'd be in as much trouble as her, Angel.” I remind Alison, “probably more.”

“She doesn't know that, Mr. P.” Alison answers without missing a beat, “She thinks she's in big trouble. And remember the way she's been coming over to your place all week; you can be sure she wants to get her cherry popped even if she can't come right out and say it.” With this final push I decide to go along with this game of ours.

“Get up, Miss Miller.” I order her sternly, and once again Alison is playing the role of a timid student. She doesn't say anything as she climbs to her feet, but everything about the way she moves and the nervous way she peeks at me through her lashes makes her seem even younger and more innocent than she already is.

“Anything, huh Miss Miller?” I decide to test the waters a little. “Just what are you willing to do to keep those pictures between me and you?”

“I could do chores for you, Mr. Patterson.” Alison suggests in a hushed whisper, “I could clean your house, wash your car or maybe mow your lawn...” I am actually more than a little tempted to see this pretty teen in a bikini washing my car, or maybe in a short pair of cutoffs dripping sweat as she cuts my grass, but decide to get right to the point.

“Take off your clothes, Miss Miller.” I growl.

“What! I can't...” Alison's eyes lift to meet mine in panic and for a second, I almost believe her protests are real until she continues. “Please Sir... please don't call the police!”

“You heard me.” I settle down on my armchair and gesture for her to start. Alison sniffs softly as she slowly starts unbuttoning her dress. It is not a classic strip tease with dancing and deliberate teasing, but in a way it is even sexier to see this 'student' fight back her tears as she nervously removes her clothes. She hesitates momentarily when she is wearing only a modest pair of pale blue panties, but I frown sternly when I see her about to ask to keep that one remaining scrap of clothes. With another sob she slowly slides her fingers under the elastic waistband. When she steps out of this last item she stands silently, eyes down with her hands behind her back.

I had forgotten how beautiful my young tenant is and take a minute to feast my eyes on the sight before me. The combination of her firm breasts with their tightly puckered nipples, the slender hips and long lean legs are just begging to have my hands run over them. It is almost thirty seconds before I break the silence.

“I think you and I can work out some kind of arrangement.” Standing naked like she is, there is no longer any pretense of what I want from her.

“Please, Mr. Patterson, I'm still a virgin.” I have to lean forward to be able to hear her hushed protest, “I've never even had a real kiss.”