Tell her that she's perfect

“You're not a slut, Honey.” Whoever this Sister Angelica is, she should have her teaching license stripped. “You are the sweetest most decent young woman I've met in a long time.”

“But I'm ruined. And the way I get excited by being taken like that ... that must be a sin.” Her vehemence catches me a little bit by surprise, and Alison uses the silence to go on. “Those fantasies are sick ... how could any man ever want to marry me?” Actually, Alison's sexual kinks are pretty hot, and I would be more than willing to explore that scenario she described about a Yankee officer ravishing a Southern Belle, but that's not what she needs to hear right now. What she needs at the moment is some calm reassurance that there is absolutely nothing wrong with her.

“From what I've read, Alison, that kind of fantasy is pretty common.” I reassure her. “You are amazing, and don't let anyone tell you anything else.” The sooner this innocent coed realizes that her problem with sex is Dick, she'll be able to relax a little and start enjoying herself.

“It can't be common, Mr. P,” Alison's eyes widen, and she shakes her head slowly, “decent people don't want to be held down and ****. They don't have twisted fantasies like mine.”

“I think you might be surprised.” I search my mind for something that might convince her, “just look at all those historical fiction novels in the supermarket.” I see the confused look on her face, “You know the covers always show some fine lady in the hands of a bare-chested Viking or Apache, you must have read at least some of those bodice rippers, they're anywhere.”

“Not in Flintfield,” Alison corrects me, “five years ago the local Walmart tried to stock them, but the Woman's Auxiliary picketed the store, and my father gave a sermon on the dangers of pornographic books. That very Monday the Walmart pulled all of their trashy novels off the shelves.” Alison looked proud of the way her parents stood up to the national retailer, maybe she should be too.

“You'll have to trust me on this then.” I continue in spite of her ignorance. “Those books are marketed to women all over the country, and pretty much everyone has an innocent young heroine who is captured by some warrior, and then is carried to their bed.” In spite of herself I feel Alison's body quiver against mine and I can't help but wonder if the store had refused to back down, how many of those romances would have been hidden in this pretty schoolgirl's closet. “That doesn't even count Harlequins set in modern times but with pretty much the same themes” I continue, “or John Norman's Gor books where lovely young Earthwomen your age are **** and sold like candy in ****-markets of the hidden planet.”

Alison doesn't say anything, but after a short silence she twists in my grasp and her arms lift to wrap around my neck and her lips search out mine. The slow kiss goes on for a good long time and her lips cling to mine with an intensity I wasn't expecting considering how this encounter started. Adding to the pleasure is the feeling of her pelvis rocking under my hips, her body is so perfectly formed that I fit into the soft recesses perfectly. I turn her head to meet my gaze; I want to be sure she hears this.

“Next time, we'll take it slow, OK?” I tell her. “There won't be any rough stuff, and I'll make sure you like it just as much as what we did tonight.” Another long gentle kiss follows and by the time we pull apart the poor girl is gasping like she's just run a mile.

“Mr. P?” Alison pants softly into my ear.

“Yeah, Angel?”

“Can we do it now?” Even with the sensation of her firm young body wiggling against me, my cock has shrunk back to nearly nothing. I’m definitely going to have to see about getting a prescription to Viagra® or whatever new wonder pill they are recommending now.

“As much as I’d like to,” I nuzzle the soft skin under her ear, “I’m spent for the night.” As if to punctuate the thought, I wiggle my hips a little and I rub my flaccid member against her belly. With a contented sigh I roll off to her side and pull her close. After a little careful adjusting, I am spooning this beautiful young woman again with her ass wedged against my pelvis and her back pressed to my chest. “Let’s just lie together like this, so I can hold you.”

“Really?” I guess after Dick’s constant disappearances, she doesn’t have much experience with cuddling after sex. I slip my hand up over her belly until I cup the smooth softness of her tit; giving it a gentle squeeze I pull her even closer.

“Really,” I assure her. In the summertime, Connecticut evenings are warm enough not to need blankets, so we lay together on top of the bedding without speaking.