After some hesitation, Alison eggs you on.

I should have realized that Alison would want to take this encounter in this direction.

“Maybe I should take it nice and slow ...” I cock my head in a silent question. “I wouldn't want to traumatize the poor thing.”

“Mr. P,” Alison scowls at me and shakes her head almost angrily. “Did you forget your part?” She takes a step forward and pokes her finger against my chest lightly. “You are God-fearing pilgrim elder whose rebellious young wife ran off to live with a pagan red savage.” She smiles at me coyly. “The young men are laughing at you behind your back. The old women say your wife ran off because you couldn't satisfy her in bed and the other elders murmur that you were too lenient with your headstrong wife and that you should have put a cane across her pretty backside.”

My imaginative tenant always did have a creative mind, especially when it comes to this type of sexy scenarios. With this added information I can see why she was getting frustrated with my slow and kindly approach. Sensing my weakness, Alison pushes even harder.

“You can do anything you want to this innocent girl, Mr. P.” She steps back and crosses her arms nervously mimicking what the native girl might have done. “She's young, Mr. P. Even younger than your run-a-way wife was when you first brought her into your home ... but this girl's just a copper-skinned heathen. You don't have to treat her with the respect you'd give a Christian white woman.” Coming from Alison, who's pale skin is about as white as you can get, this is kind of ironic, but I get what she's saying.

Damn, she looks good. Definitely good enough to fuck, but I'm not going to jump her like some horny high school student no matter what she says. Instead, I hold out my hand and wait for her to place her small hand in mine.

“Come.” She allows me to pull her to the couch and set her down with her legs spread wide. This position has her even more excited but when I slip to my knees between her thighs, she seems confused.

“Aren't you going to fuck her Sir?” Alison's soft moan tells me exactly what she wants. “Don't you want to ram your hard cock into this pretty little pussy?” Her hand covers her sex, not so much it seems for modesty, but instead to slip a finger between her slick labia and tease the petals open even more. “She might not be a virgin, Mr. P, but I can promise you she's nice and tight.”

I'm looking forward to feeling her pussy squeezing my cock, but first I want to taste her. Over the past month's I've eaten out Alison at least a dozen times, but somehow with the silly wig and headdress, and with her wild story about this interracial encounter between the old world and new, it feels like I'm licking her for the first time. As much as she wants me to throw her down and ravish her, Alison is not complaining. Her hands are in my hair, and she's moaning loudly as her slender young body bucks and wiggles so much that I have to hold her legs firmly to keep my mouth just where I want it.

“Uugh, Master.” Alison's reversion to the role-play only adds to my pleasure. “Oh ... oh ... Oh Master!” Even faster than usual, I feel her warm thighs clamp tightly against my ears and a gush of hot juices covers my lips and chin.

She is still trembling from the climax as I unbuckle my belt and push down my pants and boxers in one quick motion.