With silence (and a pretty blush)

Alison doesn't say anything. I almost think that she didn't hear me until I notice the way she is wiggling in her seat, and the flush of color that is creeping up the pale skin of her neck, cheeks and ears. I've seen this blush before, the morning after Dick's first visit Alison’s expressive face had burned in shame for close to an hour before I finally put her at ease. The wiggling however is something new and I'd give this month's rent just to know what she is thinking right now that makes her ass squirm against the smooth wood of the kitchen chair.

“Are you taking the boat out again this weekend?” Alison’s question takes me by surprise. Here I am trying to figure out if she is excited by my little suggestive comment, or if she is imagining me putting her over my knee and spanking her bubble butt, and she’s probably wondering if I’ll be gone so she can have some privacy. The question, to be fair, is a good one. One of the few luxuries I allowed myself with the sudden influx of money was a 28 foot sailboat. I spent enough on my toy that I could easily sail it by myself – Hell, the boat can pretty much sail itself, and the weather this weekend looks like it is going to be perfect on the sound.

Alone on the ‘Sailor’s Lament’ with the wind in my hair and the salty spray kicked up by the bow are times that I still feel life is worth living, but suddenly I feel like spending time closer to home.

“No, I have to do some work around the place.” The lie rolls easily off my lips as I spontaneously change my plans. “Maybe next weekend.”

“Don’t worry Mr. Patterson,” she rubs her hands together and pushes away from the table, “I’m going have your rent money by then so I have a bunch of calls to make.” She gathers up the bundle of knives and retreats back through the living room to the stairs leading to the second story. In spite of my best intentions, I cannot keep my eyes off her aforementioned tush as she disappears from sight. Alison makes those designer jeans look good, no really good, especially from this angle.

By the time she came back down for her evening tea, Alison had changed out of the tight jeans. wearing instead a long-sleeved Wesleyan baseball jersey that hung loosely off her shoulders. I can’t see her ass nearly as well as before but the sight of her long, toned legs as she pulls them up is just as good for my masturbation session later that night.

After three years of near celibacy, it is hard to even believe that I have been reduced to this but as I cum into a convenient sock I feel like a teenager anticipating his senior prom and maybe finally getting lucky with his girlfriend. It was late, because I wanted to be sure Alison was sound asleep, but after I finished I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling for almost an hour as I tried to figure out what the Hell I was doing.

The next few days return a little more to normal. No more late night jack-off sessions although do find myself paying more attention to Alison as she comes and goes. She looks better than ever, and I wonder how many other beautiful students were wandering around this small college town that I have failed to notice until now. Alison making several zoom calls trying to peddle her Cutco knives. Maybe she will be able to make a go of this.