Monique and John - a May/November Romance
Copyright© 2025 by acguy
Chapter 42
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 42 - 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
The sun shone brightly as we drove toward my office, the warm breeze filtering through the open windows. The countryside blurred past, giving way to the small town, where the streets were already bustling with people heading to work, vendors setting up, and café-goers sipping their morning espresso.
Glancing at Monique, I found her humming softly along with the music playing in the car. Her hair was loosely tied back, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She looked effortlessly radiant.
“Excited for the spa?” I asked.
She nodded. “It’ll be nice to get pampered for a bit. And I do need a haircut.”
I smiled. “You don’t need it, but I’m sure whatever you do will look beautiful.”
She reached over, squeezing my hand. “Flatterer.”
As we neared my office, she pulled up to the curb and leaned over to kiss me. “Have a good morning, mon amour. Don’t work too hard.”
I kissed her back, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “Enjoy the spa. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
She watched me walk inside before driving off, completely unaware of the plan I was about to set into motion.
I stepped into my office, surprised by how much I had missed the familiarity of the space. Chantel looked up, her expression shifting from surprise to concern.
“John? I wasn’t expecting you today. Are you feeling okay?”
I offered her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Chantel. But I need your help with something important.”
She arched a brow, intrigued. “Of course. What’s going on?”
Once inside, I shut the door and leaned against my desk, gathering my thoughts. “It’s about Monique going back to Boston for three months.”
Chantel nodded slowly. “She mentioned that. She’s not thrilled about it, but she knows she has to go.”
I exhaled. “What if she didn’t have to go for three months? What if it was only for two weeks?”
Her eyes widened. “Is that even possible?”
I sat down, my fingers tapping against the desk. “It might be. I’ve been thinking about it all night. Monique’s final semester requires a work placement, and she’s been doing it in Boston for the past three semesters. But ... what if she could complete it here, at our firm?”
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