There's no holding back

“Oh, fuck that's good!” Even with the layer of latex, the tightness of Alison's inner muscles spasming against me makes abandon my plan to work this sweet young thing into multiple orgasms before finishing. I cum so hard it's a wonder my load doesn't blast a hole in the rubber. As good as it felt to push into Alison's tight pussy, the sensation of cum pumping out from my balls feels even better. The only thing that keeps this from being a perfect moment is the knowledge that my seed will not flood into her womb and find a ripe egg to fertilize. All the same, I grunt loudly in satisfaction as the last bit of jizz is squeezed into the latex casing and then collapse onto her. Alison's slender body is still quivering as the inner ring of muscles finally stops twitching; I am filled with a mixture of pride and concern at Alison's reaction to me holding her down and fucking her. The intense sex was far from the gentle love-making that I had imagined our first time would be, but the intensity of her orgasm was a strong indicator that this was exactly what my troubled tenant needed.

“Jesus, forgive me.” I only hear Alison's whisper because I am draped across her but the pain and confusion in her voice is unmistakable. “I'm a whore and sinner.” I prop myself up on my elbow to take a little pressure off of her back while I try to figure out what to say. She uses the extra space to catch her breath, and I realize that I am breathing just as hard as she is. I am still inside her and feel her vagina squeezing my cock, milking every last drop of cum from my slowly deflating member. Alison too must feel the hot cum inside her because she jerks to pull free and I carefully pull out and roll off of her.

“Are you sure it's safe, Mr. P?” The post orgasmic calm is quickly turning to panic. “Mr. P, I can't get an abortion.” Alison's right hand curls protectively around her abdomen, her voice a hushed whisper, “my belly will swell, and everyone will know how I fornicated.” I have to smile; both at the awkwardness of her word choice and the mental image of her belly growing with my child, but I'm quick to set aside her fears.

“I know, Angel - but I look,” I pull off the intact condom and show her, “You're OK.”

“Oh.” Is it my imagination or does she sound disappointed? An awkward minute passes in silence and then I see she has buried her face in her hands and hear the sound of muffled sobs. The pleasure I feel is replaced with guilt at coercing this unfortunate coed into letting me use her like that.

“Don't cry, Angel.” I take her in my arms and hold her gently. “I'm sorry that happened that way. Next time we'll take it slow ...”

“I've never had an orgasm like that.” I thought Alison was upset about the way I took control, but it is clear that her reaction is complicated by her fucked up conservative upbringing. “I'm so embarrassed, Mr. P, what we did was wrong, but I got so excited I couldn't help myself.”

“Good sex isn't something to be embarrassed about, Angel.” I try to keep my voice smooth and easy as I calm her down.

“Good sex?” Alison seems to pounce on my word, “What is good about being held in place and used?” I should have realized that a sheltered young woman like Alison would feel uncomfortable with these fantasies of control and domination. Before I can explain that I was reading her responses and trying to bring her to the fullest climax I could, Alison confirms that she knew it was what she needed. “Why is it that the more I feel like I am being ****, the better it feels?” She takes my hands in hers and searches my eyes for answers and reassurance. “In history class, my book had an account of what happened when Sherman's army swept across the South to Atlanta. The passage described how a small troop of Yankee cavalrymen overran a Georgia plantation house occupied only by the women of the family.”

“What?” This shift in the conversation has me totally lost. Alison lifts her tear-filled eyes and makes the connection clear.

“I couldn't stop fingering myself that night, Mr. P.” The words come out in a whisper so soft that if I wasn't holding her in my arms, I doubt I would have heard them. “The passage just said, 'the men did unspeakable things to the plantation mistress, her cousin and their daughters,' but even as sheltered as we were, my classmates and I knew what that meant.” The color in her cheeks becomes even brighter but she continues anyways. “That day at lunch, our hushed conversations were all about Yankee soldiers **** Southern women. My best friend and I talked about how we'd protest and fight, but how in the end it wouldn't matter ...”

As she recounts the details, Alison's expression changes into a teasing smile. “We even giggled about what kind of man we'd want to pick us, Mr. P. We agreed that it wouldn't be so bad if the Yankee was a young and handsome officer and not some old geezer like you.” I smile back at her, taking no offense at all. Of course, that's what high school girls would prefer.

“I thought you private school girls were better than that.” I tease back.

“It's like this, Mr. P. In that all-girls school, we were as horny as any other teens, but we were constantly taught that sex was a sin. The only way to resolve that conflict is to not be given a choice about doing it, so we talked about **** and gangbangs a lot.” It is a surprisingly clear-eyed assessment of her schooldays, but Alison is one of the brightest young women I've met in a while, so I shouldn't be all that surprised. “I don't know if Kasey masturbated that night, but I certainly did. I lay under my covers in the dark and imagined that I was dragged to my chambers by a tall dark-haired Yankee. In my fantasy, the demanding officer made me undress for him and then held down and spread my legs so he could violate me as I struggled under his powerful body. As I fingered myself, I imagined him using me again and again on my own bed until at last, I surrendered to him completely.”

The room becomes very quiet for a few minutes before Alison slowly pulls out of my arms and swings her feet off the bed so she's sitting upright with her arms wrapped tightly around her chest.

“You see, Mr. P? It turns out Sister Angelica was right about me. I am a slut who'll spread my legs whenever someone tells me to.”