She accepts my invitation

The next evening I wait on the couch, still unsure if Alison will make an appearance, but to my delight she slowly comes down the steps wearing the designer jeans that she loved and a white top that hugged her breasts attractively. When she sees me staring, her hands slowly cross in front of her tits, hiding them shyly. I can't help but chuckle. Just about every day since she's moved in Alison has paraded around in her tight tops and no bra, but tonight she is suddenly shy?

“I'm here, Mr. P.” She sounds nervous. I take her trembling hands in mine and tug her gently closer, pulling them down so I can get a better look at her. I am several inches taller than her, and from this angle I can get a peek down her shirt but instead I keep my gaze firmly on her large expressive eyes.

“I missed you tonight at dinner,” I squeeze her hands encouragingly, “are you hungry?”

“No, I'm good.” Her eyes lower to stare at a button on my shirt, “are we going to … you know...”

“Are you still OK with this?” Clearly she is, because she's standing in front of me like a sacrificial offering to some ancient god, but I want to hear her say it. The strapless top is an interesting choice, it just begs to be pulled down and I wonder if that was a conscious decision on her part, or if she is just so naïve that she didn't think about how a man might react to seeing her in this get-up. I set as a silent goal for myself to have that bodice pulled down so I could suck on her pretty titties by the end of this session.

“Yes, sir.” Alison's response comes out as a breathy whisper, “if this is what you want.” How could it be anything else? A sweet teen-aged blonde with all that bare skin to hold in my arms and those soft lips to kiss. I raise her knuckles to my lips and kiss the backs of her fingers.

“You are perfect.” I tell her as I release her hands and place mine on her bare shoulders, “Their isn't a straight man in all of Middleton that wouldn't want what I have.” Before she can react to my claim, I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her softly. The pretty coed doesn't protest, but neither does she respond the way she did last night and I realize I'm going to have to take some time before she is warmed up. When the kiss ends I release her and sit down, on the couch instead of my usual spot in the armchair. Alison's fingers twist together for a few seconds and she takes a deep breath before she comes to join me, but I don't have to cajole or threaten her, so I'll take that as a win.

Alison sits like she usually does with her legs pressed together slightly to the side. She doesn't move when I shift closer and drape my arm over her bare shoulders, but I can feel her stiffen in my arms. Instead of being put off by her apparent discomfort, I find her reserved response charming and look forward to reigniting the fires I remember from last night. With a smile of anticipation, I pull the young woman into my arms and kiss her, more firmly this time than the previous kiss. Her mouth opens to my insistent tongue and in no time at all I feel her arms wrap around my neck as she clings to me. The vein under her ear where my fingers rest is pounding rapidly and I love the way her breasts press against her top as she tries to recover; the demanding kiss is having the exact effect I was hoping for when I swung her onto my lap.

“Wasn't that nice?” I ask when I finally pull back to let her breath and her eyes open and slowly focus on mine.

“I don't know, Mr. P.” The nervousness of the small town girl from Tennessee is intoxicating, “I feels nice, Mr P, but you are only the third person I've ever kissed, and the other boy's kisses where never like that.”

“Just let me know if things start moving too fast, OK Angel?” She smiles shyly and lifts her lips brushing mine with hers so lightly that I almost imagine it. I find this initiative on her part to be a very good sign and let her know with an appreciative moan.

“Do you think I'm a good kisser, Mr. P?” I can't help but laugh at the panting blonde on my lap. She must be able to feel how hard the cock that she is sitting on is, but she still is **** for confirmation from me that she is doing this right.

“You, Angel, are an excellent kisser.” I tell her as I drop my mouth down to hers for a brief moment, “I hope you don't mind spending a good hour or so like this with me on this couch?”

“I think I'd like that.” The way her expressive eyes light up let me know that I have her hooked, now I just have to reel her in. “But just kissing, right?” Alison must have sensed my true intentions, because she reminds me of our deal.

“We're not going to do anything you don't want, Honey.” I deflect her question with another gentle kiss that migrates from her lips to the soft skin on the side of her neck just under her ear. Judging by the way she squirms and moans, this is definitely a hot spot for her and I spend a good amount of time before moving down to where her shoulder meets her neck. “You are so beautiful, I could do this all night long.”

“Really?” Her eyes glow with pleasure.

“Oh yeah,” When my lips return to her mouth I start fondling her firm breasts through the fabric of her top adding a new level of stimulation to excite her. She moans weakly and her hand comes to rest on mine, but she apparently decides that this falls within the parameters of our arrangement. It doesn't take long before she accepts the hand squeezing her soft mounds and when my tongue probes at her lips, she opens her mouth and her tongue comes out to meet mine with a fierce passion. The kiss is so intense that Alison doesn't even notice when I pull down the top and my fingers slide into the gap to explore her bare skin and the hard bud of her small nipple. I don't even feel guilty about taking advantage of my naïve tenant this way. Why else would the young woman wear a top like that if she didn’t expect me to pull it down?

I pull her slender body onto my lap twisting her slightly so I am slightly behind her and both hands can grope her breasts without having to bend awkwardly. Only now does she seem to realize what I've done, but I silence her protests with another kiss; by now she is nicely heated up and I squeeze her soft mounds even harder, instead of protesting she arches her back and presses herself into my palms willingly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. P, I just can't.” Alison tries to twist in my arms, but I hold her firmly. “This is wrong,” she protests in a half-hearted whimper, “You said I could keep my clothes on.” I stop actively squeezing her but let her soft tits fill my hands as I slowly pull back enough to see her face clearly.

“It's OK, Angel,” I assure her, “I'm not taking off your top, I just wanted to see these beautiful breasts and feel how soft they are in my hands” For some reason that I will never understand, this compliment makes her forget about the objection.

I'd probably be pushing my luck, but judging by how easily she acquiesced to me pulling down her top, she might have a similar reaction once she felt my fingers stoking her little clit.