No need to rush things

“I think it might be best to take things slow, Angel.” Putting her off like this is one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I'm playing the long game and besides I don't have any condoms anyways. I make a mental note to get to the drugstore first thing tomorrow morning. Alison seems both surprised and a little confused by my decision, but after a few awkward minutes we gradually settle back into our normal routine. Later when she says goodnight, I watch her long legs and round ass as she climbs the steps, and it is all I can do not to follow her to her bedroom.

Alison is unusually quiet the next morning as she eats her cereal, but she gives me a shy smile as she heads out the door and off to her morning classes. I leave shortly after and head straight to the CVS. It has been over thirty years since I've bought condoms and frankly, I'm a little overwhelmed by the amount of different choices I'm faced with. In the end I get a box that advertised extra sensitivity, Feels like there's nothing between you and your partner.

It is later in the evening that I am waiting to see if she is going to visit me. Perhaps optimistically, I sit on the couch instead of my usual chair with tea and an almond danish, still unsure if Alison will make an appearance. Perhaps it is the smell of the pastry, but I don't think so. To my delight she slowly comes down the steps wearing a pair of form-fitting designer jeans that she loves and a coral-colored bikini top that I know for sure will be coming off by the end of the night.

"What's up Mr. P?"

She saunters over to where I am sitting. “You got any plans for tonight?” There is no doubt in my mind that she’s deliberately teasing me, but I play along.

“Oh, no.” I yawn in feigned boredom, “Why don’t you come sit over here and tell me what’s on your mind.”

Alison sits like she usually does with her legs pulled up under her, but she shifts closer and drapes her bare arm over my shoulder. That is all the invitation I need, and I gently pull the young woman into my arms and kiss her gently on her lips.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” As much as I hate to, I have to ask.

“I think so, Mr. P.” The bold sass that had characterized her entrance is now replaced by the nervousness of the small-town girl from Tennessee.

“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.

“You’re sweet, Mr. P.” I might be sweet now, but if this evening goes as I intend, she might have to revise her evaluation of me. Less than two minutes into this make-out session the string tie on the back of her swim top is pulled loose. Alison doesn’t even pretend to object, why else would she wear a top like that if she didn’t expect me to strip it off her? My hands slide under the hanging triangles and cup her breasts as she moans softly in excitement.

“Do you like them?” She seems genuinely concerned that you might not. “Richard says I should get implants.”

“Dick is an idiot, Honey.” I lift the garment over her head and immediately return to the pair of soft globes, rubbing the smooth skin and gently pinching her tightening nipples. “These are perfect, don’t you dare change them.”

“Really?” Her eyes glow with pleasure.

“Oh yeah,” I grin as I start kissing her again, this time fondling her firm breasts adding a new level of stimulation to excite her. There is no hesitation on her part this time when my tongue probes at her lips. She opens her mouth, and her tongue comes out to meet mine.

I pull her slender body onto my lap twisting her slightly so I am slightly behind her, and my hands can grope her breasts without having to bend awkwardly. 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 going to make you cum now, Alison” I growl, my right hand leaving her tit and sliding downward over her belly and under the waistband of her jeans. “Do you understand.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. P, I can't.” Alison tries to twist in my arms, but I hold her firmly. “I just can’t climax,” she tries to explain, “whenever I start feeling good like that I tense up, and ruin everything.” I ignore her protests and slip my hand further into her jeans, I find what feels like a very skimpy pair of panties and wonder if, like her top, she deliberately chose this garment just for me.

“Relax, Angel.” I work both her plump breast and the damp patch I find at the crotch of her panties at the same time. “We’ll keep these clothes on, so you know you’re safe.” She moans sweetly and I can feel her hips start to rock in time with my rubbing, but she still doesn't believe it will happen.

“I can’t, Mr. P.” She pants weakly, “I can’t … I can’t …” it becomes a bit of a mantra for her, and it doesn’t bother me in the least, because it is not her words that that I'm paying attention to but the way her body is responding to the combination of my kissing, pinching of her nipple and rubbing her clit through the now soaking cotton. When my fingers find their way under the panties and between her slick petals, I begin to feel the change. As I tease her little nub her body becomes more and more tense until Alison jerks in my arms and her whole body stiffens into a rigid arc.