0 comments/ 18708 views/ 4 favorites The Good Jesuit Boy By: AlysPayne Allison had one of her monthly dean's meetings at the City Park Campus that afternoon, so she decided to lunch at Degas. She loved Degas. The fish of the day was always delicious and that day's special happened to be monk fish served over risotto with a lemon beurre blanc sauce and haricots verts. The tender little green beans were her favorite. She savored them, always saving a fork full as her last bite. The meeting went well and the final budget was approved for the new library to be built on the West Bank Campus. Allison was happy that they would finally be able to move forward with the plans. The meeting let out early, but rather than drive back to the West Bank she decided to head home to her Uptown apartment. As she drove down Carrolton, she thought about how soon she could make an appointment with the architects. Allison was mildly excited that the Provost of the campus had decided to have the architects meet with her. At her previous institutions, she had found the administration rarely asked the architects to confer with the librarians, but it seemed so obvious to her that the head librarian would know what worked best for a library. At the corner of Carrolton and Banks Street, Allison stopped at the red light. She watched as numerous young men and boys filed past the front of her car and crossed the street. As she glanced to her right more boys poured out of Jesuit High School. Boys were loitering, roughhousing and climbing into car after car driven mostly by mothers who appeared to Allison to be very close to her own age. It struck her as rather odd that at thirty-seven she could be old enough to have possibly had one of the young men as her child. She didn't feel even remotely close to that old. Most of the boys walking by her car were busy talking with each other, while some plodded along alone with their heads down, so they did not look in her direction. A few did gaze towards her car, but they seemed to looked right through her, either not really taking notice of her or, she could only assume, seeing her as just another mom type. As she waited for the light to turn, she couldn't help but notice how pretty some of the young men were as they marched by in their beige uniforms. She felt safe to ogle and objectify them a bit from the anonymity of her car. Many of them were handsome or cute and some of them were downright gorgeous. Good little catholic boys, she thought, but she knew better. She had grown up with Catholic boys back in Oklahoma and some of them were the naughtiest boys she knew, doing things like stealing the church wine, trying to get down her pants and getting sent off to rehab. Just as she began to ponder which ones might be naughty or nice, one of them looked right at her. She returned his gaze and was surprised when he didn't look away. He was one of the gorgeous ones, at least to her he was. He was long and lean with dark wavy hair that was slicked back, but still not entirely under control. She had a sudden desire to see what he would look like when one of those waves fell into his eyes. He finally turned away from her to playfully push one of his friends who had run up behind him and smacked him on the head. He stepped up on the curb with his buddies and then the light turned green. Before Allison could hit the gas someone honked their horn at her. As she drove off she watched in the rearview mirror as he looked after her. Almost two weeks went by before she saw him again. She had tried to put him out of her mind and had even begun to discount him as a figment of her imagination, but when she came to a stop at the corner of Banks Street again she couldn't help but to think about him. She looked around, hoping to spy him, but all the boys looked so similar in their uniforms and so many had dark hair. She had almost given up, when she heard a voice. She had been so busy looking around for him, that she hadn't noticed as he sidled up to the open passenger window of her car. "There you are, finally. I was starting to wonder if you would ever come back." He gave her a big confident grin as he leaned into her car. "Oh, hi." She blushed. She hoped he hadn't seen her looking for him, but she was sure he had. "Patrick, nice to meet you." He reached his hand into the car to shake hers. "Allison." She leaned across the car to let him take her hand. He bent and kissed it. It embarrassed and surprised her. Someone honked behind her. "Oh, shit! I mean, excuse me. I guess I have to go." "Wait! Can I catch a ride with you? I don't live too far." He smiled sheepishly at her from under a lock of brown hair. She felt mesmerized as she watched him smooth the wave back into place. She noticed his eyes were hazel, light brown with flecks of gold. The car honked again, more aggressively this time. "Yes, yes, just get in." She waved him inside and he jumped in. What was she doing, giving a ride to a perfect stranger? Then again he looked so harmless in his schoolboy uniform, and that smile of his seemed so warm and sincere. It melted her. "Put your seatbelt on, please." She ordered instinctively, as she began to drive down Carrolton. "Yes, ma'am." He winked at her and buckled up. "So, young man. Where to?" "How about to your place?" "My place?" She gave him a look of surprise. "Yeah, you got anything to eat there? I'm starving." He put his feet up on the dashboard. She wanted to tell him to remove his feet, but she didn't. "I figure you must live nearby, since I've seen you driving by so many times." He winked at her. "You've seen me prior to that last time?" She felt herself blush at the thought. "Yep, I've had my eye on you for a while. Sure took you long enough to notice me though. I started to think you never would." A wide smile spread across his face. "Me? Why would you have your eye on me?" It was true Allison had driven by the school many times over the last year and she had never given the boys a second look. Until recently, she had thought no more of them than any other children getting out of school. She wasn't sure what made her finally look two weeks ago, but having him in her car made her feel happy that she had. "Cause you're hot, of course." Allison could see his shit-eating grin out of the corner of her eye as she drove. For a moment she wondered if he might be toying with her. "Me, hot? Why would you say that, I'm almost old enough to be your mother?" "You are not old enough to be my mother. My mom's old and you, Allison, are hot." Allison had been a beauty in her youth and rather popular with the boys, but somehow after years of graduate school, a failed marriage and adulthood in general, she had begun to take her looks for granted. That this handsome boy would take notice of her and go so far as to call her hot, was secretly a thrill for her. She stole a peek at herself in the rearview mirror and decided he was right. "How about some pizza? I know a nice place nearby." She figured all teenage boys liked pizza. "Sure!" He had a self-satisfied look on his face. Allison pulled into a space on the corner of Maple and Cherokee. Her favorite pizza joint was less than a block away and the parking space was right in front of her apartment, but she didn't mention that to her young companion. They walked up the street to Reginald's Pizza and took a seat on the veranda. Patrick ordered a bottle of red wine. Allison was surprised when the waiter didn't even bother to ID him, but then she remembered where she was. Back in Tulsa they probably would have IDed her, what's more a teenage boy who was in fact still wearing his school uniform. The laws might be the same, but in New Orleans the rules were different. Even after three years in the city, she was still getting used to that. Patrick examined the cork when it was offered. The waiter poured a small amount into the glass, and Patrick swirled the red liquid around, sniffed at it and took a small sip. He approved and the waiter poured them each a full glass. "To making new friends." Patrick held his glass up and Allison clicked hers against his. The wine felt warm and spicy as it flowed down her throat. She let out a deep sigh, she couldn't get over how strangely relaxed she felt in Patrick's company. They ordered a large white pizza with roasted garlic, fresh tomatoes and basil. Allison slowly ate her one big piece and watched in amazement as Patrick woofed down most of what was left. They chatted aimlessly and he continued to flirt, flashing her sly smiles and making everything they said seem as if it had a double meaning. They finished the bottle of wine and she was feeling a little tipsy. The waiter boxed up the pizza, and to Allison's surprise, Patrick insisted on paying. It was dawning on her that she might have picked up one of those surprisingly sophisticated and most likely wealthy Uptown boys. She offered to let him take the leftovers with him, but he told her to take them. As she stood to walk back to the car she felt her head spin a bit. These days she rarely drank, so the few glasses of wine had really gotten to her. "Oh, my!" She tried to steady herself on the table. Patrick reached out to grab her arm. "Are you okay Allison?" He had a look of genuine concern in his eyes. "Oh, I think I had a bit too much wine. I'm fine, but I don't know if I should be driving for a little while. Do you want to come up to my place for a bit, for some coffee and dessert?" She surprised herself by inviting him back to her place, but she really did feel like she was safe with him. "Sure, I would love that." He slipped his arm around her as they walked back towards the car. She led him past the car and over to the side of the old house. He helped her up the flight of stairs, which she didn't really need, but she liked the warmth of him against her. Patrick wandered around her living room, looking at the art on the walls and picking up books off her shelves. She started a pot of coffee brewing, pulled out a box of cannoli from Angelo Brocato and put them onto a plate. She loved living in a city with authentic cannoli. Before moving to New Orleans, she hadn't had a decent cannoli since her trip with her mom to Italy when she was seventeen. Authentic ethic cuisine was another thing Oklahoma didn't do very well. She put the coffee and pastries onto a tray. "Let's go out to the balcony." She led them through her bedroom and out onto a screened in porch. They sat down at the big table over-looking the street below. It was breezy and the sun was setting pink and golden in the west. "You have anything to put in this coffee?" Patrick raised an eyebrow smiling wickedly at her. "I have some Jack, but I can't have any, I have to take you home soon." She got up to retrieve the bottle of whisky from the bar. She returned and handed him the bottle. "You don't need to drive me. I can take the street car from here, Allison. I'm only a few blocks away, really." He poured a liberal about of liquor into his cup of coffee and then into hers. She didn't stop him. After half a bottle of wine and in his company she had a strange desire to let loose and whisky was just the thing to make it happen. "So Patrick, what grade are you in?" Allison lifted a cannoli to her lips and took a bite. He was too busy watching the cannoli enter her mouth to answer right away. "Um, it's my senior year, yeah only three more months of high school to go. And then I start at Tulane in the fall, which of course means I can walk over here anytime you want me." He winked at her, and she was pretty sure, nodded towards the bedroom. Allison wiped the powdered sugar off her mouth, assuming that was what Patrick was so fixated on. "And that makes you how old?" "Eighteen and two months. Does that work for you Allison?" He took a big swig of his coffee and then topped it off with more whisky. His boldness surprised her. She didn't know boys like him when she was his age. That was clear to her. "I guess it does work for me." She grabbed the bottle of whisky and poured more into her cup. She knew what she was saying and that she was consenting to whatever was going to happen next. It frightened and thrilled her. It had been about six months since she had kicked her boyfriend out and for eight years before that there had only been him in her bed. They met at the University of Oklahoma in Tulsa, where he was a professor of English and she was a grad student in the Library Master's Program. He had been so impressive to her when she met him, what with his writing career and PhD. When he was offered a position at Loyola, of course she followed, but more and more she began to wonder if they would ever get married, ever buy a house, if he would ever stop smoking pot or cheat on her any less with his undergrads. Finally she decided she didn't care anymore and kicked him out. She'd been happier without him, but still lonely and, she had to admit, incredibly horny as well. When they were together she was often so angry at him that she had felt almost no desire, but suddenly she was ravenous. Since she hadn't slept with anyone else for over eight years and no one at all for the past six months, she wondered if she even knew how to make love to a man other than her ex. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back." She stood up slowly. "Don't go anywhere." Allison had a misty look in her eyes as she smiled at him. When she exited the brightly lit bathroom she realized how dark it had become outside, so instead of heading straight back to the balcony she went into the kitchen to find a book of matches and a couple of candles. As she entered her darkened bedroom she was surprised to find Patrick standing there. She giggled nervously. She could tell by the look in his eyes exactly what it was that he wanted, but she pretended to be unaware as she tried to pass between him and the end of her bed on her way back to the balcony. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms. "Oh my!" She smiled up at him, as he bent to kiss her mouth. Opening her mouth, she let his tongue slip inside and he kissed her deeply. His hands tore at her clothing, easily dispensing with her blouse and unhooking her bra. His hands grabbed roughly at her tender breasts. His lips made a trail of kisses down her throat and chest and quickly found a hard nipple to suckle at. She tried to catch her breath. She was thankful he was holding her up, because she greatly doubted her ability to stand, she was so dizzy with desire. As he pinched and sucked at her breasts, his hand found its way up her skirt and slipped into her panties. Suddenly she was flying through the air and landing on her back on the bed. Then he was on top of her, franticly kissing and caressing her. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, she felt him pushing inside of her. She let out a cry of surprise and pain. He felt much bigger than she ever remembered her ex being. His hands shot out, pinning her wrists to the bed as he began to pound her into the bed. He was thrusting so hard that she felt herself sliding across the bed until her head was hanging off one side. He leapt up, effortlessly flung her back into the middle of the bed and slid back between her legs. "Is this ok?" He must have noticed the surprised look on her face. "Oh yes, I'm loving it." She smiled up at him. She was genuinely thrilled to find such a handsome and virile young buck between her thighs. She couldn't help but think of the lovers of her youth and that thought turned her on completely. "I'm loving it too. I could go all night. I hope that's ok?" He gave her the sweetest wide-eyed, lust-filled smile she had ever seen. "It is more than ok, it is wonderful." It had been years since she had been with anyone who could go all night. Her stoner professor was always complaining of being too tired and even going so far as to say that she shouldn't always expect him to initiate. She knew what he was really saying was he wanted to just sit back and do nothing while she gave him head. Of course that idea just made her resentful and much less likely to initiate anything. She wrapped her legs around Patrick and clung to him as he continued to pound her into the bed. Her hands delighted in every muscle in his strong young back as they flexed and labored over her. She reached down and squeezed his firm ass in her palms, opened her legs as wide as possible and pulled him deeply into her and then she began to come. A scream started to well up somewhere deep inside of her. When it finally made its way out of her mouth it was so incredibly loud and guttural that she hardly recognized her own voice. Patrick continued to thrust into her with such force that even before she came down from her last orgasm she began to come again. As she exploded again, screaming and arching her back, tears started to flow down her checks and she felt herself gasping and gulping for air as sobs erupted from her throat. As she writhed beneath him, Patrick's entire body stiffened and then he released his seed in great hot torrents deep inside of her. As they clung to each other, exhausted, slicked with sweat, cum and tears, he whispered into her ear. "I want to spend the rest of my life this way, Allison." She murmured her agreement, knowing it couldn't last, but feeling thankful for whatever time she might have with him and hopeful because the Tulane dorms were in walking distance from her place.