She has conditions (no Vasectomy path)

I cannot believe how soft and sweet her lips are. I can feel my heart pounding as her lips pucker slightly in an instinctive feminine invitation to continue, but as much as I’d like to stick my tongue into the hidden recesses of her mouth I slowly pull back. Even as the kiss ends, I take note of the way her lips cling to mine – that’s a good sign.

“Wow!” Alison’s breathy response is music to my ears. “Mr. P…” Her whisper goes nowhere as she struggles to find the right words. “Mr. Patterson,” she starts again this time a little more formally. “I’m not sure what to say…” Once again, her words fade into silence and this time, I prompt her gently.

“That wasn’t so bad, as kisses go, was it?” I haven’t kissed anyone on the lips since the morning my wife died, and for a long time I didn’t think I'd ever want to again, but it was a good kiss, a very good kiss, and Alison thought so too.

“No, it was wonderful!” I feel like a teenager again, watching every twitch on her face and the way her eyes flicker about trying to find something safe to rest on. “But Mr. P, I can’t do this. I have a boyfriend.”

“I’m not asking you to change your life for an old man like me,” I reassure her even as I think that losing Dick would be the best thing she could do for both her wellbeing and future. “But I think we can help each other. You need a place to stay rent free, and I am developing a taste for your perfect lips.”

“What would I have to do?” I cannot hide the smile that is bursting from my chest. This beautiful 19-year-old is seriously considering my offer! I’m not much of a fisherman, in spite of the time I spend on the water, but I’m experienced enough to know that when a fish is eying your lure, you have to let it take the bait before you set the hook.

“Nothing you don’t want to, Alison.” I do my best to settle her rattled nerves. “But if I help you out with your rent and food, would you let me spend the occasional night in your bed and share your beautiful body.” Alison has one of the most expressive faces I have ever seen; I can see the competing emotions sweep across her face like markings on a whiteboard. Pleasure, doubt, excitement, fear, nervousness, sorrow, curiosity, not necessarily in that order or even coming one at a time as new ones replace the old in a jumble of confusion.

“You want to make love to me?” She stammers out, “instead of me paying rent?”

“Let’s say I want to have sex with you in exchange for rent,” I amend her summery of my proposal. “Call me old-fashioned, but ‘making love’ sounds a little too intense for a bitter widower like me.”

“Like, how often?” This is going better than I could have hoped for, is she really considering my offer?

“I was thinking once a week.” I tell her, “It doesn’t have to be on a rigorous schedule, but four times a month or so seems like often enough to satisfy me without interfering too much with your life.”

“You’d have to wear a condom.” Alison’s face hardens into a look of rocky determination. “I can’t get pregnant – so that’s an absolute.”

Until that moment I hadn't really considered all the possible consequences of this arrangement. On one hand I'm too old to start all over with being a father, but the idea of my seed taking root in this beautiful young woman's womb is wildly erotic. Fran had to have a hysterectomy after Robby was born so it's been years since I've worn a condom, but I guess if that's what it takes to make this work ...

“Maybe you should be on the pill?” I suggest as an alternative to the hassle of rubbers, but she's not wild about that idea.

“If my parents found out I was on the pill they'd kill me.”

“OK, Angel.” I agree, even as I wonder if she's serious about her parents really getting violent. “I'll make sure I stop by the **** store and get a box. OK?” I see her deep sigh of relief, and I suspect that this is a major area of contention between her and her asshole boyfriend. Then a new concern crosses her mind.

“I might not be any good.” It is a tribute to my almost 30 years of teaching that I did not laugh in her face. “I’ve only ever done it with Richard, and well … I might just not be … you know, what you're expecting.”