Monique and John - a May/November Romance
Copyright© 2025 by acguy
Chapter 15
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 15 - An aspiring young architectural student sets her sights on her older widowed neighbour.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Reluctant Romantic Fiction Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Safe Sex Voyeurism
When I awoke, it was to the soft glow of morning light filtering through my bedroom windows.
Monique was still beside me, her golden hair spilling across the pillow, her face serene in sleep. The sight of her like this—unguarded, peaceful—made something in my chest tighten.
We had things to talk about. Things to figure out. But not now. Not yet.
Carefully, I leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips.
Her eyes fluttered open, hazy at first, but the moment she registered my touch, a slow, sleepy smile spread across her face.
“Good morning, my love,” I murmured.
Her eyes widened slightly, then softened. She reached for my face, pulling me down for a deeper, lingering kiss.
“Good morning, my dear John,” she whispered against my lips. “I will never tire of hearing you say that.”
She pulled back just enough to study me. “How are you feeling this morning?”
I exhaled heavily. “To be honest, baby, I am sore as hell. My left side aches, and I have a headache.”
Concern flickered across her features, but she didn’t let it overshadow her warmth. “Let me get washed and dressed, and then I’ll be back to help you.”
She tossed off the covers and sprang from the bed, her movements light and full of energy. I watched as she disappeared into the ensuite, catching a glimpse of her perfect, bare backside before she vanished.
My body stirred instinctively, but as soon as I shifted, a fresh wave of pain pulsed through my skull. I groaned, closing my eyes. Any thoughts of morning play would have to wait.
I heard Monique’s soft footsteps moving through the room, assuming she was heading to the guest room to dress. I decided I should do the same, but as soon as I managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, a wave of dizziness rolled over me, forcing me to pause. The room spun wildly, and I had to steady myself against the mattress. If this was what a concussion felt like, I’d had enough of it already.
Before I could attempt to move again, Monique reappeared, dragging a suitcase behind her. I chuckled, realizing what it meant—she was staking her claim, settling in, making this our space. The thought sent a rush of warmth through me, a quiet thrill of knowing she intended to stay. I met her gaze and smiled.
“Make space for yourself, my love,” I murmured, my voice still a little hoarse from sleep.
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