She has mixed emotions

“Jesus, forgive me.” I only hear Alison's whisper because our heads are inches apart 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 chest 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.

“You weren’t wearing a condom.” Her sudden twisting catches me a little bit by surprise, and Alison explains. “I'll get pregnant. I'll have to drop out of school.”

“No Angel -” I begin to remind her that I had a vasectomy, but I am interrupted before I can even start.

“I can't get an abortion, Mr. P.” 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.” For a just a second, I wish I could see her belly swell with my child, but I remind her of the circumstances.

“I know, Angel - but you can't get pregnant, I had a vasectomy.”

“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.

“I've never had an orgasm like that.” I thought Alison would be blown away by my skillful loving, but if anything she is distraught by her uninhibited response. “I'm so embarrassed, Mr. P, what we did was wrong but I got so excited I couldn't help myself.”

“Good sex is never something to be embarrassed about, Angel.” I try to keep my voice smooth and easy as I calm her down. “Did you like it?”

“It wasn't like what I'm used to, it was nice.” Alison seems surprised, “I didn't freeze up at all did I?” This sheltered young woman's experience with sex was so limited, she didn't have much to compare it to. Just the few snippets gleaned from the Bible, that horrific recounting of Saint Ursula's martyrdom and Dick's abusive fucking. “Until tonight, I could only get excited by being ****.” She takes my hands in hers and searches my eyes for answers and reassurance. “From my very first climax, when I read about those Christian maidens and the Huns ... and being with Richard ...” She pauses for a second or two, “There's something wrong with me, Mr. P.”

“No Alison.” I squeeze her hands firmly, “That kind of fantasy's not that unusual, I promise. There are whole series of books written about innocent young women being captured and trained by men.” Her eyes lift to find mine again.

“Really?”

“Really, Angel.” I pull her into my arms and cradle her trembling figure. “And it's not just men who are excited by fantasies of control either.” I lift away a strand of sweaty hair and brush her lips with my thumb. “Haven't you ever read any Harlequin romances?”

“Oh no, Mr. P.” Alison blushes, “The Walmart tried to sell them, but the Women's Auxiliary picketed the store, and my father gave a sermon about trashy pornography. By Monday all the books were removed.” Alison seems proud of her parent's ability to keep the real world from intruding into her small town.

“Well, you'll have to trust me about this then.” My sister had a stash of Harlequins hidden from our parents and I had read through them too, skipping to the 'good' parts, so I feel pretty confident about this assessment. “Those books are written for a female audience.” I remind her, “But almost everyone of them has the innocent young heroine overpowered by a much older man who sweeps her off her feet and into his bed even as she tries to resist.” If Alison's parents hadn't sanitized every source of information from her life, this poor thing might have a better sense of what sex should be like. If her only experience with male-female interactions came from the bible with it's ancient sensibilities of rapine, ownership and subjugation of young maidens, or the fire-and-brimstone sermons of her father it's no wonder she's so confused.

“I don't know, Mr. P,” Alison is clearly not convinced. “What we just did was so different, but what if I start craving those dark desires again. How could I ever be a mother or wife if all I can think about are these awful things?”

“Oh Angel,” I give her another quick hug, “when you find the right man you're going to make him very happy.” Once again I seem to have touched a sore spot, because her gaze drops to her hands that are twisting together on her lap.

“What kind of man would even want a ruined sinner like me?” The pain in her words is palatable and I wonder how she could even doubt herself like that, At this very college, I am sure that there are over a hundred young men right now who would love to be in my place, and who would treat her better than what I'm doing and certainly much better than that asshole Dick.

“You're not ruined, Angel.” I tell her, “Just because you're not a virgin, doesn't change how smart, caring and beautiful you are, besides a lot of men like women who know how to enjoy sex.” Her eyes find mine again and I can see the gears turning in her mind as she goes over this completely different world view than what she has been taught.

I don't know if I've convinced her or not, but at least she's not rejecting the arguments out of hand.

“Come here, Angel,” I pull her gently down into my arms until I am spooning her soft naked body, “Let's just lie here and enjoy each other's company.” In the summertime, Connecticut nights are warm enough that we didn't even need a blanket as we lay on the bed with her in my arms; it did not take long to fall asleep.