The College Boy and the Cougar

By J.R. Airul

College boy is twenty-one, a bit of a hunk, with a large portion of nerd and geek, who's never been kissed and taking his second long trip away from home.

Our femme fatale cougar is twice his age, indebt to the tune of eleven million dollars, recently unemployed from her own project, having been "not asked back" for the second year. Before that, she was "ceremoniously" fired from a network television Vice President position. She has no idea what's going to happen next, except to have some fun in the sand and suds with a young buck, while cleansing her head from the unpleasant events she recently experienced.

Working out of her house on Maui, she takes the boy on a whirlwind tour of the hills and valleys of her body, as well as those of the island, giving him the two week vacation tryst of his life filled with sights, sounds, drugs, booze and lots of hot sex.

• Language: English
• Publisher: erdprod Books
• Release date: Feb 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463627433

Book preview

The

College Boy

and the

Cougar

by J. R. Airul

21520

Copyright © 2019 by J. R. Airul, all rights reserved.

First Epub Edition February 13, 2020

A college junior’s, erotic, romantic romp around Maui with an older woman.

This book contains explicit sex, language, drug, and alcohol use.

It is designed to be consumed by consenting adults only.

No one in this fictional story is under 18 years of age.

No endorsement is expressed or implied for any of the places or trademarks that might be found in this book.

BISAC: Fiction / Romance / Erotica

Subjects: Older woman, younger man, college student, summer vacation, sexual situations, adventures, Hawaii, Maui, Hana Highway, luau, Snuba, snorkeling, Zipline, recreational drugs, bodily functions, intoxication.

Sunday, Week One

It had been a long, dreary convention week, where I had been roped into giving the farewell speech after the Sunday bon voyage dinner. That gig was arranged a long while back and I couldn’t get out of it, even after I told them that I no longer worked for a television network, having just been fired off my own show.

Well, since I did need to network with those people who might listen to my pitch or offer me a job, and this convention was filled with those corporate types, I decided to make the trip.

I was also in need of a vacation, and Hawaii was my home away from home, so the change of scenery would probably do me good.

A week of handshakes, luncheons, and presentations yielded zilch. Now everyone was heading home, leaving me sitting here in the bar alone sipping down Jack until numbness sets in.

How much? the young man who had silently scooted up next to me inquired.

I was shocked back into reality and turned to see this ‘person’ who was standing beside me at the bar. Huh?

How much for a roll in bed? he asked with a smirk on his face.

More than you can ever afford! I said in a very pissed-off tone.

Look, said the guy who didn’t look old enough to even be here in the bar. We have this friend, John, who’s like never been kissed let alone laid and he can’t even talk to girls. He’s a business and accounting major and all he does is sit at his computer crunching numbers all night long. The three of us are willing to kick in $10 each for you.

Oh, wow! I said as a wide-eyed look of amazement came upon my face. "Thirty whole dollars. What in the world would I ever do with such a big bankroll as that?! My expression quickly morphed into a look of annoyance. Get out of my face, asshole!"

I’m not an asshole lady, I’m an Ivy League college student. Do you know what it takes to get into one of those colleges?!

A daddy with lots of money, and a mommy who knows how to suck dick? I put forth, getting even more annoyed with the boy for playing twenty questions with me.

Look, hun… he said, patting my arm.

That was a big, big mistake.

I grabbed his hand, pulled his whole arm across my body, twisting the wrist and applying pressure to the thumb with my right hand, while pressing my left palm against his elbow to generate ulnar nerve pain. Is this the hand you take your notes with at college, hun?

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! he moaned, as the side of his head was now up against the bar top.

Could this be the hand you beat off with, hun? I said, applying more pressure on the arm.

Ow, ow, ow… he continued to moan.

I gave a laugh. If I break this in several places you might have a problem doing either of those things, won’t you, hun? Now, go back to the table with your friends and the moral of this tale is, be careful who you put your mitts on as they might just hold a black belt or two! I then let go of his hand, which sent him pitching back several feet.

His eyes went wide, as he turned, holding his aching hand while walking back to his table where two other guys were sitting, laughing at him with wild applause.

What the hell made that asshole think that I was a hooker? I mean, I wasn’t wearing anything outlandish or gauche, as I had just finished speaking to a group of conservative men in suits who worked at TV networks and stations around the country. I was in a black dress that went down to my knees, showed neckline, but no cleavage. It was one of the outfits I used to wear to my network job where all the men were required to wear suits, shirts, and ties. It was one of the outfits I picked out specifically for this event, accompanied by a pair of black pumps. My makeup was minimal with a little blush, lipstick, and lid color.

Do I look like a whore? I asked the bartender who had been eyeing my altercation with the lad.

He shook his head.

Those guys old enough to drink? I asked, referring to the three young men seated at the table who looked like they were still in high school.

Yep, all over 21, he told me. I double-checked their licenses, all from different states, too! They also had college IDs with pictures. Ivy league college boys!

And leaving chump change for tips, the waitress standing before the bartender added. They get a $19.50 bar bill and leave $20, then tell you to keep the change. She motioned to the other waitress. Tammy had them yesterday and sluffed them off on me tonight. Between the two of us after 6 hours of boozing, we’ll be lucky to get $2 each!

I giggled. Last of the big spenders, eh?

College kids with a 21 ID, no credit card and a $20 a day budget! the waitress said, shaking her head.

I glanced over as a tall, blond, really good looking guy walked out of the men’s room, strode over to the boys’ table and sat down. One of his friends said something and he blushed pure red. He was very cute, but also shy and nervous. He was the epitome of a haole with his pale skin, blond hair, a shirt that looked like it came off a dinner table and polyester no-iron black pants.

They ordered another round and the new guy got up and started to move away, but two of them grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to his seat.

I watched them and watched them. The new guy was definitely a fish out of water. A new round of drinks arrived, and they paid with a single bill.

The waitress came back to the bar and spoke to the bartender. I get to keep the change from a $20 bill for $19.25 in drinks! Wow, how lucky I am!

I laughed and pushed my snifter forward. One more triple.

One more double, the bartender told me.

Whatever, just fill it… If you would please, kind sir, I said, sliding my glass towards him with a big smile, while holding my tongue, as I had been tempted to tell him to ‘just fuckin’ fill it,’ but that might have gotten me eighty-sixed, and I really wasn’t ready to go up to my little hotel room to face solitude and silence. Yes, indeed, I was not a very happy puppy tonight.

He brought out a bottle of Jack and poured it. That’s your limit, don’t make me throw you out.

I climbed off my stool. Don’t worry, I’m fully capable of walking out of here on all fours! I then took the drink and stumbled towards the boys.

I grabbed a chair from another table, slid it in, scooting two of them over a bit, then sat down with the boys.

So, I said to the one who had approached me. Is this the friend you spoke to me about earlier?

Uh… the guy I had arm-wrestled was surprised by my approach.

I turned to the new guy. They tell me you’re a smart guy and good with numbers. Are you?

The boy opened his mouth, but no words came out.

You do math, business, read documents, come on now, this guy here told me you were a whiz! Are you?

Uh… the boy stammered.

You see these sharks in there at the meeting that just ended, they were flashing me all this shit on paper. Money this, points that, index this, households that, and I just feel like they ripped my clothes off and raped me silly. Can you help me with this stuff?

There was silence.

Your friend here led me to believe that you were some math and business whiz, are you or aren’t you? I need help!

Well…uh….

Come on John, you’re tops in all our classes, and you tutor undergrads, one of the guys who didn’t get his arm twisted by me spoke up. Help her out!

I – I – I’d have to see them... the very good looking young man stammered.

Follow me, I got ’em upstairs, I told him as I got to my feet, still swaying a bit. Kill your drink, whatever it is...

Long Island Iced Tea, one of the guys told me.

Iced tea? Ha! That's a woosy’s drink, just down it. Go ahead, straight down the hatch! I prompted as he lifted the glass and just drank it all.

Come, I held out my hand. And show me I’m not being taken undue advantage of…

He hesitated, then lifted his hand, which I grabbed, dragging him to his feet. Come along, my white knight, I said, pointing him across the room towards the other side of the bar. Go to the elevators and push the up button. I’ll be along directly, so wait for me! I commanded, shooing him off with my hands as he looked at his friends who were all waving bye-bye to him. I have to pay the bar bill, so I’ll be along directly, I said to the young college boy who was now hesitating at the doorway as I shooed him with both my hands.

He walked out of the bar and vanished into the hallway.

I believe there was a discussion of big bucks, I said to the guy who first approached me, as I bent over the table, propping myself up with both hands flat on the tabletop.

Yeah...yeah. Guys pitch-in like you agreed, he said, pulling out a ten spot, as the other two guys also pulled out their wallets and handed over bills, which he then passed to me.

Nice doing business with you college boys! I said, standing upright, taking my drink, then walking back to the bar and leaning over the edge, with three tens in my hand. Each of you grab some of my ill-gotten gains here, I told the bartender and two waitresses who were now gathered around me. "His friends just bribed me with all this money to go out with that hunk who just left. You all saw him, right? He was a hunk, right?"

The blond one that looks like Brad Pitt, Tammy, the waitress, said. The one who just left. Long Island Iced Tea guy.

"Yep. You said Brad Pitt, and not ‘the pits,’ right?"

Both girls nodded, as the bartender also nodded back in concurrence.

I think he looks more like Justin Timberlake, the other waitress said.

At this point in time, I’ll take either! I said, looking at the bartender. Those drinks of mine go on my hotel bill, right? He nodded as I opened my bag and handed the bartender a twenty. You know, if you’d have given me a triple I probably would have given you a fifty by mistake, but I’m currently sober enough to know the difference between a Michael Jackson and a Hugh Grant, I said with a grin as I downed the last of my drink, closed my bag and headed out towards the elevators.

What’s Michael Jackson got to do with anything? Tammy asked, all mystified.

The bartender shook his head and laughed. "I think she was referring to money. Andrew Jackson’s on the twenty and Ulysses S. Grant is on the fifty. And if she would have made that statement to me before I poured her double, I wouldn’t have poured it!" he said with a big smile, as he pocketed the money I passed out.

I found the boy standing by a bank of elevators waiting.

Sorry, whatever your name is, but I had to give the bartender a picture of Michael Jackson, I said, giving a chuckle.

Huh? he inquired.

You had to be there, I told him, banging on the elevator button.

My name, by the way, is Juh – Juh – Juh – John, he stammered. And I really think we should do this tomorrow as I’m feeling kind of strange.

Won’t be here tomorrow, Juh – Juh – Juh – John. Need to get it done tonight. Don’t worry, I’ve got something in my room that’ll fix your clock up good.

Huh? he asked, pressing the