The Landlord
Re: The Landlord
It's times like these when life just flies by.
The weeks leading up to the wedding flew by without me being able to retain anything other than the hazy memory of a constant rush.
I don't know by what miracle we managed to get everything done in time, but we did.
And there I was, all dressed up, standing at the altar, waiting for my beloved to arrive at the end of the aisle.
And she appeared... superb... magnificent...
I marveled at the dress she'd hidden from me until the last moment: splendid, like her, a smooth, immaculate dress, with no frills or lace, long, very long, with a bustier that left her shoulders and arms bare. Her long blond hair was pulled up over the nape of her neck in an artfully unstructured bun, in which a few Frésia flowers were lost. Only a gold chain and earrings discreetly added a touch of color to her perfect finery.
Summer had given her a superb complexion, and she radiated health and happiness.
Sheathed in white satin, her still-flat belly gave no hint of her almost four months' pregnancy. Only a discerning eye would have noticed that her usually small breasts were now completely filling out her balconies, at the very risk of overflowing the bustier that must have been tried on before this sudden development.
As I watched her slowly approach, clutching her bouquet with one hand and Delange's arm with the other, I tried not to think about the fact that the man who had accompanied her and brought her to me in front of the assembly of friends and family gathered for us was the one with whom she regularly slept and perhaps also the one who had given birth to the baby growing in her womb.
Absolutely surreal!
If they only knew... all those well-meaning people with their radiant smiles... If they only knew, they'd think we were crazy.
Eventually, they reached me. Delange handed me my future wife's trembling hand and leaned over, holding my shoulder:
"I entrust her to you, happy man. I hope you measure your luck."
It was the first and only time he'd ever talk to me like father to son.
With a lump in my throat, I could only nod.
***
My memory of the ceremony, too, is hazy, overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions.
As for the vin d'honneur and the meal that followed, in trying to please everyone and give everyone a little time, it wasn't at these moments that the bride and groom found themselves together the most.
In any case, the general consensus was that it was an absolutely successful wedding and party.
For my part, I let myself be guided by the surrounding jubilation and, busy chatting with family and friends, quickly forgot the particular circumstances of this union. Jenny was happy and radiant, and for me that was the most important thing.
As for Delange, he was as discreet as possible.
There were a few questions about who he was and what his role was, but once it was clear that we were lucky to have such a good relationship with our landlord, he fell back into relative anonymity.
Of course, no one but the three of us knew that it was he who was financing the entire festivities.
The guests no doubt thought the wedding was being paid for by our parents, and to them we'd asserted that we could take care of everything financially (which had certainly raised my profile with my future in-laws).
Admittedly, it bothered me a little to show outward signs of a wealth I was far from having, and certainly it bothered me to owe this usurped popularity to a third party, but that evening, all in my happiness at marrying the woman of my life, the prettiest girl in the world, I tried to forget about it for a while.
And I was right to do so. All the more so as the hidden reasons for this great illusion came back to haunt me during the course of the evening, when I least expected it...
As I've already mentioned, Jenny and I weren't permanently glued to each other during the evening. She regularly went off to spend a few moments with her family and friends, and I did the same on my own.
At one point, however, I realized that I'd lost sight of her for a while.
Just as I was about to start worrying, I saw her reappear in the main hall.
Her half-absent appearance didn't alarm me, as she'd been hovering all day.
Seeing that I was watching her, she approached me:
"- Hello my love, are you all right?"
"Yes, and how are you? Where have you been? I was almost worried."
Hanging around my neck, she kissed me fiercely before putting her mouth to my ear:
"- Obviously, my dress is having a big effect on Leo."
I stepped back to look at her. A mischievous smile answered my quizzical look. She whispered in my ear again:
"- He was very insistent. He kept telling me he couldn't resist, that he had to fuck the bride..."
" - Did you...?!?!"
" - Nooo!! It's out of the question! I told him over and over again that you were the groom and that tonight only the groom would be able to enjoy the wedding night."
I should have held back my sigh of relief:
"- Only... he was so disappointed, so cute with his imploring look... I couldn't do anything but offer him a little compensation... Didn't you feel anything when I kissed you, right away?"
Without giving me time to react other than by opening wide, bewildered eyes, she blew me a kiss with her hand and left me standing there to return to more... conventional mundanities.
I froze for a moment. I understood only too well what she had implied.
No, I hadn't tasted anything of note when I kissed her.
At the same time, I hadn't really been concentrating on that.
How could I have imagined.
And now that it was a question of imagining, an icy shiver ran down my spine at the idea that someone might have unexpectedly caught the bride giving head to one of the guests, a guest who wasn't the groom!
***
He was right, Delange, and I had to hand it to him: Jenny was deeply sexy in her wedding dress and, to tell the truth, he wasn't the only male in the room who dreamt of being in bed with her, far from it.
Except that he, unlike the others, had been the only one entitled to a "little compensation", as my darling had said.
It suddenly dawned on me that, while she'd reserved the exclusive right to the wedding night for me, he'd been the first to benefit from the young bride's sexual "services"... Before the groom!
Already quite irritated, this discovery of their clandestine occupation had turned me on.
All I was waiting for was to get together with Jenny in the bridal suite and give her a run for her money!
Alas, I had to wait many more hours before I could satisfy my baser instincts.
But I used this time to fine-tune my program. The gourgandine was going to pay dearly!
***
Alone at last in our bedroom, I didn't wait long before pulling on my sweetheart's petticoats.
After all, she'd been waiting for this. A brief digital incursion into her panties revealed a humidity level that would make an equatorial forest pale in the monsoon season.
So we didn't wait to undress before consummating the marriage as it should be. The first time, quick and impatient, to release the overflow of desire that had been nagging at us all day. Then a second, more sedate but just as intense. In between, we took the time to undress so as not to damage the beautiful dress and suit.
Alas, for the dress, it was a little too late. Quite crumpled, it also showed a few suspicious traces of my eagerness to honor my brand-new wife.
"- Thank you, my love."
" – What for ? "
" - For this wonderful day, for agreeing to be my wife."
She giggled.
" - It's me who should be thanking you for being my husband, for being such an understanding husband."
Lying tightly together, we savored a special quietude after our second burst of love. Our parallel thoughts had brought us to the same place:
"- When I think that you went to suck him off in the middle of the evening... You're crazy! Anyone could have surprised you. Can you imagine the scandal!"
"Don't worry. We were well hidden. It was safe. And it was quick..."
"The bastard must have really enjoyed getting his dick pumped by the bride while the wedding was in full swing right next door."
" - Oh yes! With a few back-and-forths, it was in the bag! Well... out of the bags, that is... All I had to do was make sure he didn't get it all over me, swallow dutifully, return the wizened cockie to his lodgings and off I went! I went back to my unsuspecting husband and rolled him a big fat kiss."
She leaned over to kiss me as her little hand went down to my pubic bone to check that her story was having the desired effect on my anatomy...
Comforted, she smiled at me as she settled astride me.
"- In any case, thank you for reserving primacy for me over your little married pussy. I appreciate the attention."
" - You're welcome, darling! Now it's a question of proving to me that I've made the right choice." She said, directing my stiffened member into her burning den.
The night was far from over!
***
The weeks leading up to the wedding flew by without me being able to retain anything other than the hazy memory of a constant rush.
I don't know by what miracle we managed to get everything done in time, but we did.
And there I was, all dressed up, standing at the altar, waiting for my beloved to arrive at the end of the aisle.
And she appeared... superb... magnificent...
I marveled at the dress she'd hidden from me until the last moment: splendid, like her, a smooth, immaculate dress, with no frills or lace, long, very long, with a bustier that left her shoulders and arms bare. Her long blond hair was pulled up over the nape of her neck in an artfully unstructured bun, in which a few Frésia flowers were lost. Only a gold chain and earrings discreetly added a touch of color to her perfect finery.
Summer had given her a superb complexion, and she radiated health and happiness.
Sheathed in white satin, her still-flat belly gave no hint of her almost four months' pregnancy. Only a discerning eye would have noticed that her usually small breasts were now completely filling out her balconies, at the very risk of overflowing the bustier that must have been tried on before this sudden development.
As I watched her slowly approach, clutching her bouquet with one hand and Delange's arm with the other, I tried not to think about the fact that the man who had accompanied her and brought her to me in front of the assembly of friends and family gathered for us was the one with whom she regularly slept and perhaps also the one who had given birth to the baby growing in her womb.
Absolutely surreal!
If they only knew... all those well-meaning people with their radiant smiles... If they only knew, they'd think we were crazy.
Eventually, they reached me. Delange handed me my future wife's trembling hand and leaned over, holding my shoulder:
"I entrust her to you, happy man. I hope you measure your luck."
It was the first and only time he'd ever talk to me like father to son.
With a lump in my throat, I could only nod.
***
My memory of the ceremony, too, is hazy, overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions.
As for the vin d'honneur and the meal that followed, in trying to please everyone and give everyone a little time, it wasn't at these moments that the bride and groom found themselves together the most.
In any case, the general consensus was that it was an absolutely successful wedding and party.
For my part, I let myself be guided by the surrounding jubilation and, busy chatting with family and friends, quickly forgot the particular circumstances of this union. Jenny was happy and radiant, and for me that was the most important thing.
As for Delange, he was as discreet as possible.
There were a few questions about who he was and what his role was, but once it was clear that we were lucky to have such a good relationship with our landlord, he fell back into relative anonymity.
Of course, no one but the three of us knew that it was he who was financing the entire festivities.
The guests no doubt thought the wedding was being paid for by our parents, and to them we'd asserted that we could take care of everything financially (which had certainly raised my profile with my future in-laws).
Admittedly, it bothered me a little to show outward signs of a wealth I was far from having, and certainly it bothered me to owe this usurped popularity to a third party, but that evening, all in my happiness at marrying the woman of my life, the prettiest girl in the world, I tried to forget about it for a while.
And I was right to do so. All the more so as the hidden reasons for this great illusion came back to haunt me during the course of the evening, when I least expected it...
As I've already mentioned, Jenny and I weren't permanently glued to each other during the evening. She regularly went off to spend a few moments with her family and friends, and I did the same on my own.
At one point, however, I realized that I'd lost sight of her for a while.
Just as I was about to start worrying, I saw her reappear in the main hall.
Her half-absent appearance didn't alarm me, as she'd been hovering all day.
Seeing that I was watching her, she approached me:
"- Hello my love, are you all right?"
"Yes, and how are you? Where have you been? I was almost worried."
Hanging around my neck, she kissed me fiercely before putting her mouth to my ear:
"- Obviously, my dress is having a big effect on Leo."
I stepped back to look at her. A mischievous smile answered my quizzical look. She whispered in my ear again:
"- He was very insistent. He kept telling me he couldn't resist, that he had to fuck the bride..."
" - Did you...?!?!"
" - Nooo!! It's out of the question! I told him over and over again that you were the groom and that tonight only the groom would be able to enjoy the wedding night."
I should have held back my sigh of relief:
"- Only... he was so disappointed, so cute with his imploring look... I couldn't do anything but offer him a little compensation... Didn't you feel anything when I kissed you, right away?"
Without giving me time to react other than by opening wide, bewildered eyes, she blew me a kiss with her hand and left me standing there to return to more... conventional mundanities.
I froze for a moment. I understood only too well what she had implied.
No, I hadn't tasted anything of note when I kissed her.
At the same time, I hadn't really been concentrating on that.
How could I have imagined.
And now that it was a question of imagining, an icy shiver ran down my spine at the idea that someone might have unexpectedly caught the bride giving head to one of the guests, a guest who wasn't the groom!
***
He was right, Delange, and I had to hand it to him: Jenny was deeply sexy in her wedding dress and, to tell the truth, he wasn't the only male in the room who dreamt of being in bed with her, far from it.
Except that he, unlike the others, had been the only one entitled to a "little compensation", as my darling had said.
It suddenly dawned on me that, while she'd reserved the exclusive right to the wedding night for me, he'd been the first to benefit from the young bride's sexual "services"... Before the groom!
Already quite irritated, this discovery of their clandestine occupation had turned me on.
All I was waiting for was to get together with Jenny in the bridal suite and give her a run for her money!
Alas, I had to wait many more hours before I could satisfy my baser instincts.
But I used this time to fine-tune my program. The gourgandine was going to pay dearly!
***
Alone at last in our bedroom, I didn't wait long before pulling on my sweetheart's petticoats.
After all, she'd been waiting for this. A brief digital incursion into her panties revealed a humidity level that would make an equatorial forest pale in the monsoon season.
So we didn't wait to undress before consummating the marriage as it should be. The first time, quick and impatient, to release the overflow of desire that had been nagging at us all day. Then a second, more sedate but just as intense. In between, we took the time to undress so as not to damage the beautiful dress and suit.
Alas, for the dress, it was a little too late. Quite crumpled, it also showed a few suspicious traces of my eagerness to honor my brand-new wife.
"- Thank you, my love."
" – What for ? "
" - For this wonderful day, for agreeing to be my wife."
She giggled.
" - It's me who should be thanking you for being my husband, for being such an understanding husband."
Lying tightly together, we savored a special quietude after our second burst of love. Our parallel thoughts had brought us to the same place:
"- When I think that you went to suck him off in the middle of the evening... You're crazy! Anyone could have surprised you. Can you imagine the scandal!"
"Don't worry. We were well hidden. It was safe. And it was quick..."
"The bastard must have really enjoyed getting his dick pumped by the bride while the wedding was in full swing right next door."
" - Oh yes! With a few back-and-forths, it was in the bag! Well... out of the bags, that is... All I had to do was make sure he didn't get it all over me, swallow dutifully, return the wizened cockie to his lodgings and off I went! I went back to my unsuspecting husband and rolled him a big fat kiss."
She leaned over to kiss me as her little hand went down to my pubic bone to check that her story was having the desired effect on my anatomy...
Comforted, she smiled at me as she settled astride me.
"- In any case, thank you for reserving primacy for me over your little married pussy. I appreciate the attention."
" - You're welcome, darling! Now it's a question of proving to me that I've made the right choice." She said, directing my stiffened member into her burning den.
The night was far from over!
***
Re: The Landlord
Well, hubby was first, not counting the sly bj, but I wonder how long Leo had to wait for his turn?
Re: The Landlord
Not too long, indeed
Re: The Landlord
The next day was like most after a wedding. Tired but convivial.
We'd been able to accommodate most of our guests in the castle or nearby, so almost everyone had stayed.
After what could only be described as a short, lively night, Jenny and I were not among the freshest.
But once again, we had to put on a brave face for family and friends.
Especially since most of the conversation revolved around Jen's pregnancy.
Yes, she'd wanted to be secretive and say nothing before the wedding, but it hadn't worked.
We didn't know where the leak had come from, as very few people knew about her condition, but it had leaked out in the end. The bun in the oven was now an open secret.
It was no big deal. It had to be said at some point, and it was a good way to tell everyone at once.
Despite my darling's fears, the news was very well received, and it was a great opportunity to toast the occasion with the guests.
When they learned that she was in her fourth month, everyone raved about her slender figure.
Jen had swapped her wedding dress for a lightweight summer ensemble, and it was true that it took a trained eye to suspect her condition. Once again, she was resplendent.
I have to admit that, in the euphoria of the moment, I gave little thought to the strange triangular relationship between us and our landlord, the fruit of which was perhaps growing in my wife's womb.
At that moment, there was no ambiguity in my mind: I was the father of this child, and it was up to me to celebrate it properly.
However, raw reality left me little respite before imposing itself once again in the form of my Jenny advancing towards me with a conspiratorial air.
Under cover of a warm embrace, she whispered in my ear:
“Decidedly, Léo is unbearable. I don't think he'll leave me alone until he gets what he wants. I'll take him to our room, can you cover for me for half an hour ?
And without waiting for my assent, she placed a furtive kiss on my lips and walked away, not without giving me a knowing wink.
Confused, I watched her leave for the apartments. As she passed, I saw her give Delange a discreet wave. He waited a few moments before taking the same direction. Not very discreet, I thought. But who could have suspected these two? It was so improbable.
As improbable as the flippancy with which my wife had told me outright that she needed half an hour to “relieve” her lover so he wouldn't bother her again. As if it wasn't a chore, as if she didn't really want to!
For the first time since the start of this adventure, I really felt like I'd been taken for a ride.
But what could I do? I wasn't going to cause a scandal. This was neither the time nor the place.
I'd just have to tell Jennifer as soon as possible. And in the meantime, I had to do what she'd asked me to do: cover her up so no one would find out. So that no one would know that Jenny actually had two men in her life and that I, the newlywed for one day, was already fully cuckolded.
When it came to covering it up, I had to work hard.
Even on the day after a wedding, it's hard not to notice that the bride hasn't shown her nose for a while.
Especially as the half-hour initially planned dragged on a little until it reached, and then exceeded, an hour.
I couldn't count the number of people I told that everything was fine, that Jennifer had just had a bit of a slump and had gone for a lie-down.
Fortunately, between the sympathetic ones who sympathized with her pregnancy and the more mischievous ones who not-so-subtly congratulated me on having exhausted my young wife on the wedding night, this alibi worked like a charm.
Only I knew that, by way of a little slack, my dearest and sweetest was in the process of receiving a major blow from her lover.
It wasn't the first time this had happened, I'd already had to deal with it knowing what they were both doing, but here, given the circumstances, it was even stronger. So much so that I had palpitations just imagining what was happening right now in our bridal suite.
When she'd been gone for almost an hour and a half, Jenny's mother Chantal began to worry seriously:
“- Are you sure you're all right, Jennifer?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, don't worry.
“- I'll go and see her anyway, just in case.”
“ - No no, don't bother, I'll go myself. ”
No way was Mom going to show up in the suite and find her daughter in a more than compromising position! Anyway, I had to go. It was becoming urgent.
No sooner had I arrived in the corridor than I bumped into a fresh and dapper Jenny.
“Ah, there you are! Everyone's asking for you. I was running out of arguments! It's been almost two hours!”
She jumped on my neck.
“Oh, I'm sorry, my love, we've lost track of time. Léo was all worked up, plus he insisted on taking me in my wedding dress. So it took me a long time to put it on, and then to take it off... And you know him, when he's gone, once is rarely enough for him.”
No, I didn't, actually. But I had to take the hard news: my wife had just been tumbled twice on our wedding bed, dressed in her wedding dress. In terms of symbolism, it was a pretty big deal.
But Jennifer didn't give me time to dwell on my considerations as a sharing husband:
“And in the state I was in, I had to take a little shower.
Yes, that was better, yes.
She was greeted by an appreciative hubbub.
A few minutes later, Delange also made his appearance, this time to general indifference. He was careful not to make eye contact with me.
Everything had gone smoothly. I could breathe more freely. There had been no one to hang around the side of the rooms and overhear a few evocative noises as the groom paraded into the reception hall. In any case, nobody mentioned it to me and I didn't catch a single suspicious, intrigued or amused glance.
The rest of the day was much more conventional, as we let our guests go one by one, and they all congratulated us one last time.
***
A final moment of solitude awaited me a few days later, however, when it was time to take our wedding clothes to the cleaners...
The wedding dress was in obvious need of a good cleaning, and from the amused look on the face of the woman in charge of receiving the clothes, she didn't wonder about the nature of the many stains strewn all over it.
I even thought I detected an envious glance at my anatomy.
Alas, I couldn't decently point out to her that the majority of these marks were not of my making.
We'd been able to accommodate most of our guests in the castle or nearby, so almost everyone had stayed.
After what could only be described as a short, lively night, Jenny and I were not among the freshest.
But once again, we had to put on a brave face for family and friends.
Especially since most of the conversation revolved around Jen's pregnancy.
Yes, she'd wanted to be secretive and say nothing before the wedding, but it hadn't worked.
We didn't know where the leak had come from, as very few people knew about her condition, but it had leaked out in the end. The bun in the oven was now an open secret.
It was no big deal. It had to be said at some point, and it was a good way to tell everyone at once.
Despite my darling's fears, the news was very well received, and it was a great opportunity to toast the occasion with the guests.
When they learned that she was in her fourth month, everyone raved about her slender figure.
Jen had swapped her wedding dress for a lightweight summer ensemble, and it was true that it took a trained eye to suspect her condition. Once again, she was resplendent.
I have to admit that, in the euphoria of the moment, I gave little thought to the strange triangular relationship between us and our landlord, the fruit of which was perhaps growing in my wife's womb.
At that moment, there was no ambiguity in my mind: I was the father of this child, and it was up to me to celebrate it properly.
However, raw reality left me little respite before imposing itself once again in the form of my Jenny advancing towards me with a conspiratorial air.
Under cover of a warm embrace, she whispered in my ear:
“Decidedly, Léo is unbearable. I don't think he'll leave me alone until he gets what he wants. I'll take him to our room, can you cover for me for half an hour ?
And without waiting for my assent, she placed a furtive kiss on my lips and walked away, not without giving me a knowing wink.
Confused, I watched her leave for the apartments. As she passed, I saw her give Delange a discreet wave. He waited a few moments before taking the same direction. Not very discreet, I thought. But who could have suspected these two? It was so improbable.
As improbable as the flippancy with which my wife had told me outright that she needed half an hour to “relieve” her lover so he wouldn't bother her again. As if it wasn't a chore, as if she didn't really want to!
For the first time since the start of this adventure, I really felt like I'd been taken for a ride.
But what could I do? I wasn't going to cause a scandal. This was neither the time nor the place.
I'd just have to tell Jennifer as soon as possible. And in the meantime, I had to do what she'd asked me to do: cover her up so no one would find out. So that no one would know that Jenny actually had two men in her life and that I, the newlywed for one day, was already fully cuckolded.
When it came to covering it up, I had to work hard.
Even on the day after a wedding, it's hard not to notice that the bride hasn't shown her nose for a while.
Especially as the half-hour initially planned dragged on a little until it reached, and then exceeded, an hour.
I couldn't count the number of people I told that everything was fine, that Jennifer had just had a bit of a slump and had gone for a lie-down.
Fortunately, between the sympathetic ones who sympathized with her pregnancy and the more mischievous ones who not-so-subtly congratulated me on having exhausted my young wife on the wedding night, this alibi worked like a charm.
Only I knew that, by way of a little slack, my dearest and sweetest was in the process of receiving a major blow from her lover.
It wasn't the first time this had happened, I'd already had to deal with it knowing what they were both doing, but here, given the circumstances, it was even stronger. So much so that I had palpitations just imagining what was happening right now in our bridal suite.
When she'd been gone for almost an hour and a half, Jenny's mother Chantal began to worry seriously:
“- Are you sure you're all right, Jennifer?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, don't worry.
“- I'll go and see her anyway, just in case.”
“ - No no, don't bother, I'll go myself. ”
No way was Mom going to show up in the suite and find her daughter in a more than compromising position! Anyway, I had to go. It was becoming urgent.
No sooner had I arrived in the corridor than I bumped into a fresh and dapper Jenny.
“Ah, there you are! Everyone's asking for you. I was running out of arguments! It's been almost two hours!”
She jumped on my neck.
“Oh, I'm sorry, my love, we've lost track of time. Léo was all worked up, plus he insisted on taking me in my wedding dress. So it took me a long time to put it on, and then to take it off... And you know him, when he's gone, once is rarely enough for him.”
No, I didn't, actually. But I had to take the hard news: my wife had just been tumbled twice on our wedding bed, dressed in her wedding dress. In terms of symbolism, it was a pretty big deal.
But Jennifer didn't give me time to dwell on my considerations as a sharing husband:
“And in the state I was in, I had to take a little shower.
Yes, that was better, yes.
She was greeted by an appreciative hubbub.
A few minutes later, Delange also made his appearance, this time to general indifference. He was careful not to make eye contact with me.
Everything had gone smoothly. I could breathe more freely. There had been no one to hang around the side of the rooms and overhear a few evocative noises as the groom paraded into the reception hall. In any case, nobody mentioned it to me and I didn't catch a single suspicious, intrigued or amused glance.
The rest of the day was much more conventional, as we let our guests go one by one, and they all congratulated us one last time.
***
A final moment of solitude awaited me a few days later, however, when it was time to take our wedding clothes to the cleaners...
The wedding dress was in obvious need of a good cleaning, and from the amused look on the face of the woman in charge of receiving the clothes, she didn't wonder about the nature of the many stains strewn all over it.
I even thought I detected an envious glance at my anatomy.
Alas, I couldn't decently point out to her that the majority of these marks were not of my making.
Re: The Landlord
A really well written story. Hope you continue.
Re: The Landlord
Thanks to the money raised on our wedding list, we were able to afford a small honeymoon trip without having to appeal, this time, to the self-interested generosity of our usual patron.
We were very reasonable. Admittedly, we would have loved to spend a week in the West Indies or on one of the paradise islands in the Indian Ocean, but we settled for the beaches and relaxed lifestyle of the Basque coast.
At the same time, we'd have been foolish to take a trip to the other side of the world when we barely left our hotel room.
Indeed, with the wedding and the advent of the fourth month, Jennifer's libido had gone up another notch. She was always in the mood. All the time, everywhere.
And since she only had one stallion left, he was employed full-time.
You could say we fucked like rabbits.
Even on the rare occasions when we took the car to visit the hinterland, there wasn't a single occasion when we didn't stop down a quiet lane to satisfy one of Madame's cravings, either in the car or out in the open.
We had chosen a good-quality hotel with a nice pool and direct access to the beach.
Between two sex sessions, we spent most of our time at the pool or on the beach.
Each time, Jenny was a great success. Most of the men we met had no qualms about scanning her up and down, no matter whether she was accompanied or not.
To their credit, she was a knockout in her little red bikini, hiding only the bare essentials. With her belly rounding out, she radiated fullness.
And yet, she confided in me that she was a little afraid that her soon-to-be more pronounced curves would make her less attractive to men in general and hers in particular.
She was wrong, of course. Unlike the disembodied beauties on shapeless, soulless magazine covers, this rounded belly, this blatant proof that this pretty young woman had taken pleasure in a man's arms, gave her a very special charm and an almost animal-like attraction in the eyes of the average male. And the envious glances she'd received throughout the week worked to confirm her: yes, she was still pleasing, and very much so.
All the more so as her belly wasn't the only part of her body to be growing in size... It was clear that her much larger breasts left few male gazers indifferent.
It was actually quite astonishing. Up until the wedding, she'd hardly put on any weight or shape at all, but within a week, her belly became much rounder and her breasts doubled in size. Almost like a woman in pregnancy denial who suddenly realizes her condition and allows her body to blossom.
By the end of the week, we had to buy her a new bikini, as the first one was bordering on the indecent!
I can't say I minded strutting around on the arm of this radiant beauty. In fact, I was rather proud. I knew she made men drool with envy, but I was the only one who could enjoy her charms. I had her all to myself. Even her lover was relegated to oblivion.
During the week, Jenny hardly spoke about Delange. And although she undoubtedly thought about him from time to time, she didn't show it. As he wasn't a cell phone or SMS fan, we didn't hear from him for seven days, and I have to admit, I didn't feel any the worse for it.
Admittedly, I couldn't deny that I'd felt a certain unnerving excitement at the idea of sharing my darling with a third party, but I'd also found that lately, this third party had become a little invasive, even if we had, at least financially, benefited from it.
It just felt good not to hear from him for days at a time.
However, when it came time to head back to the capital, I knew full well that this parenthesis would close.
Jen was no doubt thinking the same thing, as she remained unusually silent on the way back. She was thinking about it, of course, but as she didn't share her thoughts with me, I couldn't determine whether the excitement of the return trip outweighed the nostalgia of the end of our romantic getaway.
Once back in our cozy little nest, she didn't let the suspense last long:
"- Hey darling, I hope you don't mind if I let you start putting things away on your own. I'd like to go and say hello to Leo."
" - Ah? OK."
" - Are you sure you don't mind? "
" - No-no, go ahead. "
What else could I have said to her?
Obviously, the "little hello" dragged on and on. Half an hour, an hour, two hours...
Even on my own, I'd long since finished putting things away when she reappeared. I'd almost got used to the idea that I wouldn't see her again by the next day.
"Well?"
I asked mechanically.
"- Well, he said he really liked my new breasts."
We were very reasonable. Admittedly, we would have loved to spend a week in the West Indies or on one of the paradise islands in the Indian Ocean, but we settled for the beaches and relaxed lifestyle of the Basque coast.
At the same time, we'd have been foolish to take a trip to the other side of the world when we barely left our hotel room.
Indeed, with the wedding and the advent of the fourth month, Jennifer's libido had gone up another notch. She was always in the mood. All the time, everywhere.
And since she only had one stallion left, he was employed full-time.
You could say we fucked like rabbits.
Even on the rare occasions when we took the car to visit the hinterland, there wasn't a single occasion when we didn't stop down a quiet lane to satisfy one of Madame's cravings, either in the car or out in the open.
We had chosen a good-quality hotel with a nice pool and direct access to the beach.
Between two sex sessions, we spent most of our time at the pool or on the beach.
Each time, Jenny was a great success. Most of the men we met had no qualms about scanning her up and down, no matter whether she was accompanied or not.
To their credit, she was a knockout in her little red bikini, hiding only the bare essentials. With her belly rounding out, she radiated fullness.
And yet, she confided in me that she was a little afraid that her soon-to-be more pronounced curves would make her less attractive to men in general and hers in particular.
She was wrong, of course. Unlike the disembodied beauties on shapeless, soulless magazine covers, this rounded belly, this blatant proof that this pretty young woman had taken pleasure in a man's arms, gave her a very special charm and an almost animal-like attraction in the eyes of the average male. And the envious glances she'd received throughout the week worked to confirm her: yes, she was still pleasing, and very much so.
All the more so as her belly wasn't the only part of her body to be growing in size... It was clear that her much larger breasts left few male gazers indifferent.
It was actually quite astonishing. Up until the wedding, she'd hardly put on any weight or shape at all, but within a week, her belly became much rounder and her breasts doubled in size. Almost like a woman in pregnancy denial who suddenly realizes her condition and allows her body to blossom.
By the end of the week, we had to buy her a new bikini, as the first one was bordering on the indecent!
I can't say I minded strutting around on the arm of this radiant beauty. In fact, I was rather proud. I knew she made men drool with envy, but I was the only one who could enjoy her charms. I had her all to myself. Even her lover was relegated to oblivion.
During the week, Jenny hardly spoke about Delange. And although she undoubtedly thought about him from time to time, she didn't show it. As he wasn't a cell phone or SMS fan, we didn't hear from him for seven days, and I have to admit, I didn't feel any the worse for it.
Admittedly, I couldn't deny that I'd felt a certain unnerving excitement at the idea of sharing my darling with a third party, but I'd also found that lately, this third party had become a little invasive, even if we had, at least financially, benefited from it.
It just felt good not to hear from him for days at a time.
However, when it came time to head back to the capital, I knew full well that this parenthesis would close.
Jen was no doubt thinking the same thing, as she remained unusually silent on the way back. She was thinking about it, of course, but as she didn't share her thoughts with me, I couldn't determine whether the excitement of the return trip outweighed the nostalgia of the end of our romantic getaway.
Once back in our cozy little nest, she didn't let the suspense last long:
"- Hey darling, I hope you don't mind if I let you start putting things away on your own. I'd like to go and say hello to Leo."
" - Ah? OK."
" - Are you sure you don't mind? "
" - No-no, go ahead. "
What else could I have said to her?
Obviously, the "little hello" dragged on and on. Half an hour, an hour, two hours...
Even on my own, I'd long since finished putting things away when she reappeared. I'd almost got used to the idea that I wouldn't see her again by the next day.
"Well?"
I asked mechanically.
"- Well, he said he really liked my new breasts."
-
- Prepubescent
- Posts: 8
- Joined: Wed Jun 17, 2015 5:19 pm
- Location: South Texas
Re: The Landlord
Found this story yesterday - enjoying very much.
-
- Prepubescent
- Posts: 8
- Joined: Wed Jun 17, 2015 5:19 pm
- Location: South Texas
Re: The Landlord
Found this story yesterday - enjoying very much.
-
- Prepubescent
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Thu Apr 29, 2021 10:41 pm
Re: The Landlord
Wow, i think i'm going to get soms tenants .....
Dutchie who lives in a windmill, surrounded bij a tulipfield wearing klumps.
Re: The Landlord
If Jenny's early pregnancy had upset the pact we'd established between the three of us, the wedding and then the honeymoon shattered that delicate balance.
Within the first week, arguing that Léo hadn't had "his share" for more than a week, my darling asked me if we could bend our timetable a little and if she could sleep at Delange's on Tuesday night instead of Friday.
From then on, there was no such thing as a calendar or a reserved day.
My darling had passed her final exams with flying colors. With no more classes to attend, she had all the time in the world.
Normally, she would have used this time to look for a job, but her unexpected pregnancy had somewhat delayed her entry into the world of work.
So she was as free as a bird, spending her days at home, and since our landlord was also present at home, it was easy enough to understand that there was little to stop them seeing each other whenever they wanted and as often as they wanted.
This happened almost naturally. In the evenings, Jenny would tell me all about her day, and she made no secret of the fact that she had spent "a while" at Delange's house.
What had happened during that " while " was implied and she wasn't trying to lure me at all. It was just a modest way of informing me that she had slept with him during the day. As for the duration of this moment, it could range from an hour or two to most of the day, but Jen would only tell me if I asked her.
Our "agreement" was now just an excuse for us to live a little more comfortably, and a way for Jenny to ease her guilt, but we had to face the facts: our special relationship had evolved further into a kind of threesome, almost a "trouple" according to the neologism increasingly used to describe this kind of relationship.
For my part, putting aside the disturbing and totally irrational nature of having to share my wife's time and body with another, older man, I can't say that I was in any way wronged: Every evening, I found a happy, fulfilled and loving little woman.
And when it came to sex, this young beauty's overflowing libido never left me unsatisfied. She was obviously able to manage her two partners without difficulty, and not once did she refuse me on the grounds that she'd already given too much during the day.
I must even admit that this situation boosted my own libido. Knowing that my darling was desired and honored by someone else on a regular basis made her even more irresistible.
Our sex sessions were as intense as ever, even more so, especially when Jenny turned me on with details of her adulterous gallivanting.
So all was well. The only downside was the neighborhood.
Indeed, while all the neighbors knew that my wife worked cleaning hours at the landlord's place, there were no doubt quite a few who found Jennifer and Delange's multiple comings and goings between the sixth and first floors suspicious.
Although the two lovers were as discreet as possible, they couldn't avoid crossing paths with the other tenants, and I could feel the rumors swelling.
Particularly from the Saulniers, the upstairs tenants, whose condescending, even mocking looks I regularly received. They obviously had more than their doubts, but what could I do but snub their hypocritical hellos?
I could only hope that, with Parisian indifference at my side, I wasn't everyone's "cuckold of the sixth".
***
Although the birth was due in less than two month's time, my manager announced that the second module of my refresher course would take place the following week.
Obviously, I was in no position to ask for a postponement of the course, which would take me away from home for a week at the worst possible time.
When I broke the news to Jenny, she seemed far less alarmed than I was:
"- No problem, my love, go ahead."
" - I don't like leaving you here right now. "
"- Don't worry, darling, you know I'm not alone and I'm in good hands."
Yes, I knew that all too well. Just as I also knew that in my absence, she wouldn't be spending much time alone. This time, there'd be no more pretending or breaking the rules: Delange would have her all to himself for five days and nights in a row.
It wasn't so much this prolonged promiscuity that bothered me. After all, they were already together every day, five days a week. No, what bothered me was that I wouldn't be there in case of an emergency, if the baby showed up a few weeks too early.
Here too, I knew that Delange would take care of things and that Jennifer would be in no danger, but I didn't particularly want him to play the role of father at this point and at this time. I wanted to be there for Jennifer and for the baby. I wanted to be the one to take her to the maternity ward, to accompany her to the delivery room, to assist her throughout the birth, to perhaps cut the umbilical cord...
But I had no choice. So I just crossed my fingers that all these people would be waiting for me to come back and start the countdown.
Within the first week, arguing that Léo hadn't had "his share" for more than a week, my darling asked me if we could bend our timetable a little and if she could sleep at Delange's on Tuesday night instead of Friday.
From then on, there was no such thing as a calendar or a reserved day.
My darling had passed her final exams with flying colors. With no more classes to attend, she had all the time in the world.
Normally, she would have used this time to look for a job, but her unexpected pregnancy had somewhat delayed her entry into the world of work.
So she was as free as a bird, spending her days at home, and since our landlord was also present at home, it was easy enough to understand that there was little to stop them seeing each other whenever they wanted and as often as they wanted.
This happened almost naturally. In the evenings, Jenny would tell me all about her day, and she made no secret of the fact that she had spent "a while" at Delange's house.
What had happened during that " while " was implied and she wasn't trying to lure me at all. It was just a modest way of informing me that she had slept with him during the day. As for the duration of this moment, it could range from an hour or two to most of the day, but Jen would only tell me if I asked her.
Our "agreement" was now just an excuse for us to live a little more comfortably, and a way for Jenny to ease her guilt, but we had to face the facts: our special relationship had evolved further into a kind of threesome, almost a "trouple" according to the neologism increasingly used to describe this kind of relationship.
For my part, putting aside the disturbing and totally irrational nature of having to share my wife's time and body with another, older man, I can't say that I was in any way wronged: Every evening, I found a happy, fulfilled and loving little woman.
And when it came to sex, this young beauty's overflowing libido never left me unsatisfied. She was obviously able to manage her two partners without difficulty, and not once did she refuse me on the grounds that she'd already given too much during the day.
I must even admit that this situation boosted my own libido. Knowing that my darling was desired and honored by someone else on a regular basis made her even more irresistible.
Our sex sessions were as intense as ever, even more so, especially when Jenny turned me on with details of her adulterous gallivanting.
So all was well. The only downside was the neighborhood.
Indeed, while all the neighbors knew that my wife worked cleaning hours at the landlord's place, there were no doubt quite a few who found Jennifer and Delange's multiple comings and goings between the sixth and first floors suspicious.
Although the two lovers were as discreet as possible, they couldn't avoid crossing paths with the other tenants, and I could feel the rumors swelling.
Particularly from the Saulniers, the upstairs tenants, whose condescending, even mocking looks I regularly received. They obviously had more than their doubts, but what could I do but snub their hypocritical hellos?
I could only hope that, with Parisian indifference at my side, I wasn't everyone's "cuckold of the sixth".
***
Although the birth was due in less than two month's time, my manager announced that the second module of my refresher course would take place the following week.
Obviously, I was in no position to ask for a postponement of the course, which would take me away from home for a week at the worst possible time.
When I broke the news to Jenny, she seemed far less alarmed than I was:
"- No problem, my love, go ahead."
" - I don't like leaving you here right now. "
"- Don't worry, darling, you know I'm not alone and I'm in good hands."
Yes, I knew that all too well. Just as I also knew that in my absence, she wouldn't be spending much time alone. This time, there'd be no more pretending or breaking the rules: Delange would have her all to himself for five days and nights in a row.
It wasn't so much this prolonged promiscuity that bothered me. After all, they were already together every day, five days a week. No, what bothered me was that I wouldn't be there in case of an emergency, if the baby showed up a few weeks too early.
Here too, I knew that Delange would take care of things and that Jennifer would be in no danger, but I didn't particularly want him to play the role of father at this point and at this time. I wanted to be there for Jennifer and for the baby. I wanted to be the one to take her to the maternity ward, to accompany her to the delivery room, to assist her throughout the birth, to perhaps cut the umbilical cord...
But I had no choice. So I just crossed my fingers that all these people would be waiting for me to come back and start the countdown.
Re: The Landlord
This second training session was a bore.
It has to be said that my head wasn't really in it.
Between the impending birth and my wife spending the week in the arms of her lover, I was feeling isolated, useless and powerless. And a world away from professional concerns.
In the evenings, I didn't spend long on the phone with Jenny.
Frustrated at being kept away from her, I didn't even find it stimulating to know that she was naughty with Delange.
I'd just deduce where they were: if she answered on the mobile, they were at his place, if it was on the landline, it was at ours. But even that gave me only limited excitement.
However, one evening, by the timbre of her voice when Jennifer answered, I knew at once that they had just made love. She had the deep, languid, slightly hoarse voice she often had just after lovemaking.
I didn't ask her for confirmation - I didn't need it. I just asked her:
"-was it good?"
She didn't try to evade me:
"-Yes, very good."
" - Did you get your kicks?"
" - Oh yes!"
" - How many times? "
" - Two."
From her terse answers, I guessed she wasn't alone.
"- Is he still with you?"
" - Yes."
" - Are you still in bed?"
" - Yes."
" - Did I cut you off?"
"- No, but it was a close call."
"- Is he still inside you?"
" - Yes, but not for much longer. "
" - Is it on you? "
" - No... behind. "
" - Did he...?"
"-No-no. No sodo. Just him lying behind me...so as not to weigh down the baby...all gentle...Ohh!"
" -What? What's wrong?"
" - I think it turns him on to have me while I'm talking to you on the phone: I can feel his cock getting bigger again... Oh yes, it's for sure now... Ohhh yes... It's not possible Léo, we've only just finished, you're incredible, you... Hmmmmmm! Yes ! "
"Tell me about it! What's he doing?" I asked nervously.
"- He's fondling my breasts... Pinching my nipples... Hmmm yes... His cock slides perfectly... slowly... Rhhaaa!"
I don't know if it was clumsiness or modesty, but communication was suddenly cut off.
I didn't call back. I'm not sure she would have answered. And anyway, that had been enough for me: in a few brief furtive back-and-forths, I manually relieved a penile tension that had become almost painful.
***
On reflection, I was reassured to learn that Delange was attentive and gentle with Jenny.
I knew he'd never been short of it, but as the pregnancy progressed, it became a necessity.
Even though I'd read everywhere that sexual relations are not especially forbidden in the last weeks of pregnancy, as long as you remain gentle and measured, I still had trouble integrating the idea that repeated intrusions into the mother-to-be's womb were not harmful to the baby.
It was an irrational fear, but one deeply rooted in my subconscious.
So much so that when I returned from my training, my darling's waistline still seemed to have grown during my week's absence, and we hardly made love at all.
For the past few weeks, I've been content to cajole and caress her.
If she always seemed ready for more, Jenny understood my concerns and didn't push me too hard. When she was in a naughty mood, it was she who relieved me by artfully using her mouth or hands.
Innocently, and admittedly a little foolishly, I assumed it was the same with Delange.
Until one day, on my way back from the office a little early, I came across him coming down the stairs between the fifth and fourth floors.
When he saw me, he stopped and stammered a vague hello, before adding:
"Given her condition, I'd rather she didn't have to go up and down the stairs.
I nodded and returned a vague "good evening" without really trying to understand what he meant.
Paradoxically, sharing the same wife for many months hadn't brought us together at all. To me, he was always the cold, distant, impressive landlord. Knowing that he was sleeping with my wife didn't make him any more approachable, quite the contrary. He made sure he ran into me as little as possible, and I have to say it suited me just fine.
That's why our rare encounters were always tinged with awkwardness and ponderousness.
In the unusual context of our "agreement", neither of us really knew how to behave towards the other.
It was as I stepped into the apartment that his hint took on its full meaning.
Jennifer was neither in the kitchen nor in the living room. I went to look in the bedroom...
She was lying naked on the unmade bed, her legs spread wide. Under her distended belly, her gaping, reddened lips let out a milky discharge... A picture of frightening eroticism.
"I told you you'd come back. I knew your big thing wanted more..."
It only took me a moment to realize that this sentence wasn't intended for me. Her forearm folded over her eyes, she hadn't seen me coming and logically thought it was Delange who had turned back to complete his work.
"- Uh... What do you mean?"
With a quick movement, she raised her head and saw me standing in the doorway.
" - Oh my God!"
With a slightly ridiculous reflex, she closed her thighs and vainly tried to hide her nakedness with her hands.
"- Sorry darling, it's..., it's not..."
I smiled:
"- Wasn't it me you were waiting for? I thought so, I passed him on the stairs."
" - Yes... It's... You understand... He came by... He didn't want me to go down and up the stairs... And then... "
Her genuine panic amused me. She was acting like an adulteress caught in the act; as if I didn't know what she was doing with him during her days.
Of course, I didn't suspect that they were still having sex while I had been abstaining for several days. Sure, it made my heart ache.
But right now, at that moment, I was overwhelmed by the wild, raw beauty of her soiled body.
So I approached her and, without saying a word, I undressed, came on the bed, my hands gently spread her tight knees... I played my taut sex on her mucous membranes engorged with cum that wasn't mine... and I penetrated her, gently, inexorably.
She moaned.
I knew this was going to be one of our most beautiful lovemaking moments...
It has to be said that my head wasn't really in it.
Between the impending birth and my wife spending the week in the arms of her lover, I was feeling isolated, useless and powerless. And a world away from professional concerns.
In the evenings, I didn't spend long on the phone with Jenny.
Frustrated at being kept away from her, I didn't even find it stimulating to know that she was naughty with Delange.
I'd just deduce where they were: if she answered on the mobile, they were at his place, if it was on the landline, it was at ours. But even that gave me only limited excitement.
However, one evening, by the timbre of her voice when Jennifer answered, I knew at once that they had just made love. She had the deep, languid, slightly hoarse voice she often had just after lovemaking.
I didn't ask her for confirmation - I didn't need it. I just asked her:
"-was it good?"
She didn't try to evade me:
"-Yes, very good."
" - Did you get your kicks?"
" - Oh yes!"
" - How many times? "
" - Two."
From her terse answers, I guessed she wasn't alone.
"- Is he still with you?"
" - Yes."
" - Are you still in bed?"
" - Yes."
" - Did I cut you off?"
"- No, but it was a close call."
"- Is he still inside you?"
" - Yes, but not for much longer. "
" - Is it on you? "
" - No... behind. "
" - Did he...?"
"-No-no. No sodo. Just him lying behind me...so as not to weigh down the baby...all gentle...Ohh!"
" -What? What's wrong?"
" - I think it turns him on to have me while I'm talking to you on the phone: I can feel his cock getting bigger again... Oh yes, it's for sure now... Ohhh yes... It's not possible Léo, we've only just finished, you're incredible, you... Hmmmmmm! Yes ! "
"Tell me about it! What's he doing?" I asked nervously.
"- He's fondling my breasts... Pinching my nipples... Hmmm yes... His cock slides perfectly... slowly... Rhhaaa!"
I don't know if it was clumsiness or modesty, but communication was suddenly cut off.
I didn't call back. I'm not sure she would have answered. And anyway, that had been enough for me: in a few brief furtive back-and-forths, I manually relieved a penile tension that had become almost painful.
***
On reflection, I was reassured to learn that Delange was attentive and gentle with Jenny.
I knew he'd never been short of it, but as the pregnancy progressed, it became a necessity.
Even though I'd read everywhere that sexual relations are not especially forbidden in the last weeks of pregnancy, as long as you remain gentle and measured, I still had trouble integrating the idea that repeated intrusions into the mother-to-be's womb were not harmful to the baby.
It was an irrational fear, but one deeply rooted in my subconscious.
So much so that when I returned from my training, my darling's waistline still seemed to have grown during my week's absence, and we hardly made love at all.
For the past few weeks, I've been content to cajole and caress her.
If she always seemed ready for more, Jenny understood my concerns and didn't push me too hard. When she was in a naughty mood, it was she who relieved me by artfully using her mouth or hands.
Innocently, and admittedly a little foolishly, I assumed it was the same with Delange.
Until one day, on my way back from the office a little early, I came across him coming down the stairs between the fifth and fourth floors.
When he saw me, he stopped and stammered a vague hello, before adding:
"Given her condition, I'd rather she didn't have to go up and down the stairs.
I nodded and returned a vague "good evening" without really trying to understand what he meant.
Paradoxically, sharing the same wife for many months hadn't brought us together at all. To me, he was always the cold, distant, impressive landlord. Knowing that he was sleeping with my wife didn't make him any more approachable, quite the contrary. He made sure he ran into me as little as possible, and I have to say it suited me just fine.
That's why our rare encounters were always tinged with awkwardness and ponderousness.
In the unusual context of our "agreement", neither of us really knew how to behave towards the other.
It was as I stepped into the apartment that his hint took on its full meaning.
Jennifer was neither in the kitchen nor in the living room. I went to look in the bedroom...
She was lying naked on the unmade bed, her legs spread wide. Under her distended belly, her gaping, reddened lips let out a milky discharge... A picture of frightening eroticism.
"I told you you'd come back. I knew your big thing wanted more..."
It only took me a moment to realize that this sentence wasn't intended for me. Her forearm folded over her eyes, she hadn't seen me coming and logically thought it was Delange who had turned back to complete his work.
"- Uh... What do you mean?"
With a quick movement, she raised her head and saw me standing in the doorway.
" - Oh my God!"
With a slightly ridiculous reflex, she closed her thighs and vainly tried to hide her nakedness with her hands.
"- Sorry darling, it's..., it's not..."
I smiled:
"- Wasn't it me you were waiting for? I thought so, I passed him on the stairs."
" - Yes... It's... You understand... He came by... He didn't want me to go down and up the stairs... And then... "
Her genuine panic amused me. She was acting like an adulteress caught in the act; as if I didn't know what she was doing with him during her days.
Of course, I didn't suspect that they were still having sex while I had been abstaining for several days. Sure, it made my heart ache.
But right now, at that moment, I was overwhelmed by the wild, raw beauty of her soiled body.
So I approached her and, without saying a word, I undressed, came on the bed, my hands gently spread her tight knees... I played my taut sex on her mucous membranes engorged with cum that wasn't mine... and I penetrated her, gently, inexorably.
She moaned.
I knew this was going to be one of our most beautiful lovemaking moments...
Re: The Landlord
***
It was a beautiful lovemaking, indeed.
But the last one for a while, because a few days later, Jennifer felt the first serious contractions.
After a long but uncomplicated delivery, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl of 3 kg 200, whom we named Leena.
Leena was a beautiful little doll with a pink complexion and a light blond fuzz on her head.
Although I would have strongly objected at the time, I have to admit that I was quick to scrutinize her angelic face for any resemblance to me or any member of my family.
No doubt her other potential progenitor did the same when he visited Jennifer and the baby a few hours later.
Alas, or rather fortunately, Leena was above all a carbon copy of her mother, just as beautiful and luminous, with blue eyes that would charm any number of suitors in the years to come.
Neither reassured nor disappointed, nature doing things right in the end, Delange and I were once again sent back to back.
This, of course, didn't stop my mother from finding common traits with at least five generations of more or less related aunts and cousins.
Anyway, after a few hours, I couldn't care less: Leena was my daughter, the apple of my eye, my second love, I was her father and nothing could detach me from her.
***
One thing's for sure: a baby changes your life.
In the time of a few days, our couple's apartment was transformed into a nursery overflowing with stuffed animals, children's clothes, care products and diapers.
There wasn't a square meter left that didn't indicate to the untrained eye that a baby was occupying the premises.
Quite a mess, really.
As for the volume, that changed too.
It's amazing what decibels such a small body can produce. Even so, it seemed she wasn't crying much.
For me, that was more than enough. Especially since she didn't sleep through the night right away.
A baby keeps you busy, too.
After a week, and especially after going back to work after my paternity leave, I wondered how I'd managed to occupy the free time I no longer had.
Between errands, housework, meals, nappies and chaotic sleeps, we only had rare and brief moments of respite for the two of us, and we were eager to make the most of these moments of relative tranquillity to make up for the accumulated sleep deficit.
Sex-wise, it was no picnic.
Between postpartum depression and a hectic breast-feeding schedule, Jenny's new role as a mom took a back seat.
I wasn't the least bit surprised. I knew we'd have to wait a certain amount of time after giving birth, a sort of natural latency period, but I had to admit that after the fireworks of pregnancy, the return to "normal" was a little brutal.
At least I was comforted by the realization that I wasn't the only one who had to buckle down.
The dry spell didn't last long, however.
One evening, when Leena had miraculously fallen asleep without flinching, we drew tenderly closer...
One thing led to another, cuddling and caressing, and we found ourselves in bed, glued together... then nestled into each other...
It was good to win her back, to relearn her desires, to reinvest her body, to hear her gasp, moan and scream again.
I was a little anxious, I must admit. I was afraid that her body wasn't quite ready, that she'd be in pain, a bit like a first time, and it was a bit, in a way, like a first time, a new first time.
Or, conversely, my other fear was that her matrix, traumatized and enlarged by the baby's passage, would no longer be able to feel me and that I would no longer have any effect on her.
But no, I was worried for nothing.
Her warm, moist lair welcomed me as it had always welcomed me, with the same ardor, the same tonicity and, for my part, it still had the same effect on me.
It didn't take me long to rediscover the gestures and movements that give us the most pleasure, and it didn't take me much longer either to pour my cum out, satiated and happy, deep in her little cave.
*
I'd hold her in my arms.
After the rush of orgasm, it was still so good to feel her against me, tender and cuddly.
I appreciated - and I know the feeling was mutual - those moments of calm after the "storm". Moments when, tightly embraced, we savored the present moment, together, without necessarily exchanging words, each of us letting our minds wander freely without constraint and without any real guiding thread.
Then came the inevitable: "Honey... what are you thinking?"
Usually, lacking a very constructed idea or clear reasoning, I couldn't necessarily explain to her what I was thinking at the moment she asked me and I'd return a "nothing special" that only moderately suited her.
But not this time.
Here, I knew exactly what was on my mind:
"It was good. It was also good to have you all to myself... When are you going to tell him? There's no hurry, you know... In fact, we can even put him off for a while, just so we can get together like we used to."
She didn't need to answer me; her silence, brief as it was, was enough to make me understand:
"- Ah. Ok. In fact, it's already done..."
Silence is consent.
"And when was that? I asked, a little bitter.
"- The day before yesterday... I went down with Leena to have tea... She fell asleep at his place, so..."
So there was no need to go on. It was as clear as day: you don't want to interrupt the baby's sleep, so you let her sleep and in the meantime... you keep busy as you can.
And so, just when I thought I'd be able to enjoy a few days or weeks of exclusivity, I learned that once again, I'd come second. And her apologetic expression didn't console me much.
"- No, I understand, it's okay, no need to justify yourself. I get it, don't worry... You just wanted to even things up, as usual... "
"How can you say that! It's not true at all. I didn't make love with you to even things up, but because I wanted to. And you know I love you above all else!"
I was about to tell her that I had doubts about the "above everything" part, but I didn't have the time. Leena found it most opportune to wake up suddenly at that moment.
It was a beautiful lovemaking, indeed.
But the last one for a while, because a few days later, Jennifer felt the first serious contractions.
After a long but uncomplicated delivery, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl of 3 kg 200, whom we named Leena.
Leena was a beautiful little doll with a pink complexion and a light blond fuzz on her head.
Although I would have strongly objected at the time, I have to admit that I was quick to scrutinize her angelic face for any resemblance to me or any member of my family.
No doubt her other potential progenitor did the same when he visited Jennifer and the baby a few hours later.
Alas, or rather fortunately, Leena was above all a carbon copy of her mother, just as beautiful and luminous, with blue eyes that would charm any number of suitors in the years to come.
Neither reassured nor disappointed, nature doing things right in the end, Delange and I were once again sent back to back.
This, of course, didn't stop my mother from finding common traits with at least five generations of more or less related aunts and cousins.
Anyway, after a few hours, I couldn't care less: Leena was my daughter, the apple of my eye, my second love, I was her father and nothing could detach me from her.
***
One thing's for sure: a baby changes your life.
In the time of a few days, our couple's apartment was transformed into a nursery overflowing with stuffed animals, children's clothes, care products and diapers.
There wasn't a square meter left that didn't indicate to the untrained eye that a baby was occupying the premises.
Quite a mess, really.
As for the volume, that changed too.
It's amazing what decibels such a small body can produce. Even so, it seemed she wasn't crying much.
For me, that was more than enough. Especially since she didn't sleep through the night right away.
A baby keeps you busy, too.
After a week, and especially after going back to work after my paternity leave, I wondered how I'd managed to occupy the free time I no longer had.
Between errands, housework, meals, nappies and chaotic sleeps, we only had rare and brief moments of respite for the two of us, and we were eager to make the most of these moments of relative tranquillity to make up for the accumulated sleep deficit.
Sex-wise, it was no picnic.
Between postpartum depression and a hectic breast-feeding schedule, Jenny's new role as a mom took a back seat.
I wasn't the least bit surprised. I knew we'd have to wait a certain amount of time after giving birth, a sort of natural latency period, but I had to admit that after the fireworks of pregnancy, the return to "normal" was a little brutal.
At least I was comforted by the realization that I wasn't the only one who had to buckle down.
The dry spell didn't last long, however.
One evening, when Leena had miraculously fallen asleep without flinching, we drew tenderly closer...
One thing led to another, cuddling and caressing, and we found ourselves in bed, glued together... then nestled into each other...
It was good to win her back, to relearn her desires, to reinvest her body, to hear her gasp, moan and scream again.
I was a little anxious, I must admit. I was afraid that her body wasn't quite ready, that she'd be in pain, a bit like a first time, and it was a bit, in a way, like a first time, a new first time.
Or, conversely, my other fear was that her matrix, traumatized and enlarged by the baby's passage, would no longer be able to feel me and that I would no longer have any effect on her.
But no, I was worried for nothing.
Her warm, moist lair welcomed me as it had always welcomed me, with the same ardor, the same tonicity and, for my part, it still had the same effect on me.
It didn't take me long to rediscover the gestures and movements that give us the most pleasure, and it didn't take me much longer either to pour my cum out, satiated and happy, deep in her little cave.
*
I'd hold her in my arms.
After the rush of orgasm, it was still so good to feel her against me, tender and cuddly.
I appreciated - and I know the feeling was mutual - those moments of calm after the "storm". Moments when, tightly embraced, we savored the present moment, together, without necessarily exchanging words, each of us letting our minds wander freely without constraint and without any real guiding thread.
Then came the inevitable: "Honey... what are you thinking?"
Usually, lacking a very constructed idea or clear reasoning, I couldn't necessarily explain to her what I was thinking at the moment she asked me and I'd return a "nothing special" that only moderately suited her.
But not this time.
Here, I knew exactly what was on my mind:
"It was good. It was also good to have you all to myself... When are you going to tell him? There's no hurry, you know... In fact, we can even put him off for a while, just so we can get together like we used to."
She didn't need to answer me; her silence, brief as it was, was enough to make me understand:
"- Ah. Ok. In fact, it's already done..."
Silence is consent.
"And when was that? I asked, a little bitter.
"- The day before yesterday... I went down with Leena to have tea... She fell asleep at his place, so..."
So there was no need to go on. It was as clear as day: you don't want to interrupt the baby's sleep, so you let her sleep and in the meantime... you keep busy as you can.
And so, just when I thought I'd be able to enjoy a few days or weeks of exclusivity, I learned that once again, I'd come second. And her apologetic expression didn't console me much.
"- No, I understand, it's okay, no need to justify yourself. I get it, don't worry... You just wanted to even things up, as usual... "
"How can you say that! It's not true at all. I didn't make love with you to even things up, but because I wanted to. And you know I love you above all else!"
I was about to tell her that I had doubts about the "above everything" part, but I didn't have the time. Leena found it most opportune to wake up suddenly at that moment.
Re: The Landlord
I love this story. I like stories about the people involved and how situations affect them.
Re: The Landlord
Yes, I like it too. Thanks !
Re: The Landlord
In the end, we quickly got back into a sort of routine.
A peculiar routine, it's true, but a routine nonetheless.
Jennifer started seeing Delange regularly again and, of course, she started sleeping at his place once a week, often on Fridays, as before.
After a while, Jenny realized that she didn't have to be with her child 24 hours a day, and that I could look after her on my own.
As a result, she found it simpler (and no doubt more comfortable) to leave her with me on the nights she slept over.
Not that Delange didn't want Leena, on the contrary. He was absolutely smitten with Leena, perhaps more than I was, but they both knew what it was like to want to have a go with a baby around.
As for me, it didn't cost me anything to play babysitter during that time. On the contrary, I felt a little less lonely and a lot less idle.
There also came a time when it was Delange who played babysitter.
After all, even if he hadn't wanted to assume official paternity, he was still very much involved in the affair. We had complete confidence in him.
And, as I said, he was absolutely crazy about Leena.
In fact, it was quite disconcerting to see this big, impressive man turn into a tender, clumsy bear as soon as he took our daughter in his arms.
It obviously gave him a much more human side.
We soon took advantage of his availability to go out as a couple and maintain a minimum of married life.
**
One evening, as we were cuddling on the couch in front of a new TV idiotic, Jenny's hand came surreptitiously to my crotch and discovered an erection already well underway.
"- Hey, Monsieur's in fine form tonight." she remarked, amused.
I thought it best not to reply, leaving her to pursue her gentle palpations, which she certainly did...
The button, the fly and the pants were all quickly removed, and my darling soon held my entire stiffness in her hand, allowing her to move back and forth with one eye on the television.
I don't know if it was her way of casting a greedy eye over my shaft or something else, but it put my finger on a thought that had crossed my mind several times before without me managing to isolate it or find the time to dig into it:
" - Say darling, can I ask you a question?"
"-Hmm, sure."
"- Does Delange have one bigger than mine?"
She stared at me, bewildered:
" - Well, why are you asking me that? We've already talked about it, haven't we?"
"- Yes, I know, you told me we were abaut the same size, but there's a same and a about the same... and I'm wondering if you've told me everything."
"- What makes you think so?"
" - Well, remember: during my first training course, we had a dirty talk on the phone one evening, we both got very heated except that what I didn't know was that he was actually there, with you... And then more recently, just before Leena was born, when I came home early and surprised you as he had just left... "
"- Yes, so what?"
"- So, on these two occasions, you've talked to me about my big cock, my big glans or my big thing when, in fact, it turns out that it wasn't to me that these compliments were intended... I remember this all the more as I remember remarking to myself that you didn't normally say this sort of thing to me... so you understand, I really wonder if you wouldn't have incidentally wanted to spare my pride by asserting that we were the same size."
She didn't answer immediately.
Her silence alone was enough to confirm my suspicions, but she finally let go:
"It's true, he's bigger... Not necessarily longer, you're about the same. Besides, I'm not going to use a calliper to compare... On the other hand, it's true that there's a difference in width."
"- What do you mean, a difference?"
She sighed, a little annoyed that I was asking for details.
"- Well, for example, when I wrap my thumb and middle finger around your penis, like this, the tip of my thumb comes up to the nail of my middle finger, you see... whereas with his, the two fingers barely touch... And his head is much more prominent too. How's that for an explanation?"
The explanation was fine, yes, the demonstration much less so.
With a pinch of sorrow, I realized that my wife's lover, the one she'd been sleeping with for nearly two years, was much better endowed than I was. This no doubt explained it. I now understood her enthusiasm and eagerness to join him.
Easily following my train of thought, Jenny scolded me:
"Stop kidding yourself. I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. You know very well that size isn't everything. It's how you use it that counts, and you're very good at it. I hope you're convinced of that, given the number of times we do it, and it's got nothing to do with bloody equalization. I've never been reluctant to make love to you and I never will be. And you've got to believe me: I love making love with you. You just have two very different and, it has to be said, very complementary ways of making love, and that's what I like about this situation.
Afterwards, if I did try to hide this size difference from you, it was just that I know you guys, with your egos directly linked to the size of your pecker. It was simpler to put you on an equal footing since, for me anyway, it doesn't matter."
Yeah...
I had my doubts that it didn't matter to her, but it was obvious to me that it mattered a lot to him. How else to explain the fact that the only two times I'd intercepted comments aimed at him, both times the advantageous dimensions of his equipment had been highlighted?
He obviously liked to be told he was well-equipped, and no doubt enjoyed knowing he was better endowed than the legitimate husband.
"- Does he know I have a smaller one than him?"
" - Well, stop it with that, you're heavy, there!" she said. And, to put an end to this uncomfortable discussion, she leaned over my member and kissed it.
It was indeed a good strategy to shut me up, under normal circumstances.
Except that here, my imagination was still running wild and when her little hand came to caress my sack, I couldn't help but bring up a question again:
"- Does he have bigger balls, too?"
She froze her gesture:
"Yes, huge! And when he ejaculates, he floods me with sperm every time."
From her excited tone, I understood that she was exaggerating on purpose to show me the absurdity of my questioning.
However, she added:
"But he's in a good position to know that quantity isn't enough.
Yeah... provided he was telling the truth.
I don't know why, but the image of a large phallus pouring streams of fertile sperm into my wife's vagina was enough to trigger an ejaculation as sudden as it was unexpected.
Jenny, who hadn't had time to take me back in her mouth, found herself sprayed.
After her surprise, I saw in her eyes a questioning look mixed with skepticism, but she didn't say anything more.
Fortunately, because I didn't always understand why all this had such an effect on me.
We hardly ever talked about the size difference again. It had just become an established fact that I had to live with.
In fact, inexplicably, it turned me on to know that my wife's lover was better endowed. Every time I thought about it while making love, it made me hard a little harder.
But I wouldn't have admitted it to Jenny.
In her eyes, I was twisted enough as it was.
Only once, when we were in the middle of foreplay, did I bring it up again:
"- Come to think of it, you must have felt it pass, the first time he took you from behind."
Instead of getting annoyed, she gave me a roguish smile:
"- Actually, I've never told you this, but I prefer anal with you: since it's thinner, penetration is less painful and I can concentrate better on my pleasure."
Sometimes there are advantages to having a smaller one.
Obviously, this was the opportunity to verify this immediately...
A peculiar routine, it's true, but a routine nonetheless.
Jennifer started seeing Delange regularly again and, of course, she started sleeping at his place once a week, often on Fridays, as before.
After a while, Jenny realized that she didn't have to be with her child 24 hours a day, and that I could look after her on my own.
As a result, she found it simpler (and no doubt more comfortable) to leave her with me on the nights she slept over.
Not that Delange didn't want Leena, on the contrary. He was absolutely smitten with Leena, perhaps more than I was, but they both knew what it was like to want to have a go with a baby around.
As for me, it didn't cost me anything to play babysitter during that time. On the contrary, I felt a little less lonely and a lot less idle.
There also came a time when it was Delange who played babysitter.
After all, even if he hadn't wanted to assume official paternity, he was still very much involved in the affair. We had complete confidence in him.
And, as I said, he was absolutely crazy about Leena.
In fact, it was quite disconcerting to see this big, impressive man turn into a tender, clumsy bear as soon as he took our daughter in his arms.
It obviously gave him a much more human side.
We soon took advantage of his availability to go out as a couple and maintain a minimum of married life.
**
One evening, as we were cuddling on the couch in front of a new TV idiotic, Jenny's hand came surreptitiously to my crotch and discovered an erection already well underway.
"- Hey, Monsieur's in fine form tonight." she remarked, amused.
I thought it best not to reply, leaving her to pursue her gentle palpations, which she certainly did...
The button, the fly and the pants were all quickly removed, and my darling soon held my entire stiffness in her hand, allowing her to move back and forth with one eye on the television.
I don't know if it was her way of casting a greedy eye over my shaft or something else, but it put my finger on a thought that had crossed my mind several times before without me managing to isolate it or find the time to dig into it:
" - Say darling, can I ask you a question?"
"-Hmm, sure."
"- Does Delange have one bigger than mine?"
She stared at me, bewildered:
" - Well, why are you asking me that? We've already talked about it, haven't we?"
"- Yes, I know, you told me we were abaut the same size, but there's a same and a about the same... and I'm wondering if you've told me everything."
"- What makes you think so?"
" - Well, remember: during my first training course, we had a dirty talk on the phone one evening, we both got very heated except that what I didn't know was that he was actually there, with you... And then more recently, just before Leena was born, when I came home early and surprised you as he had just left... "
"- Yes, so what?"
"- So, on these two occasions, you've talked to me about my big cock, my big glans or my big thing when, in fact, it turns out that it wasn't to me that these compliments were intended... I remember this all the more as I remember remarking to myself that you didn't normally say this sort of thing to me... so you understand, I really wonder if you wouldn't have incidentally wanted to spare my pride by asserting that we were the same size."
She didn't answer immediately.
Her silence alone was enough to confirm my suspicions, but she finally let go:
"It's true, he's bigger... Not necessarily longer, you're about the same. Besides, I'm not going to use a calliper to compare... On the other hand, it's true that there's a difference in width."
"- What do you mean, a difference?"
She sighed, a little annoyed that I was asking for details.
"- Well, for example, when I wrap my thumb and middle finger around your penis, like this, the tip of my thumb comes up to the nail of my middle finger, you see... whereas with his, the two fingers barely touch... And his head is much more prominent too. How's that for an explanation?"
The explanation was fine, yes, the demonstration much less so.
With a pinch of sorrow, I realized that my wife's lover, the one she'd been sleeping with for nearly two years, was much better endowed than I was. This no doubt explained it. I now understood her enthusiasm and eagerness to join him.
Easily following my train of thought, Jenny scolded me:
"Stop kidding yourself. I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. You know very well that size isn't everything. It's how you use it that counts, and you're very good at it. I hope you're convinced of that, given the number of times we do it, and it's got nothing to do with bloody equalization. I've never been reluctant to make love to you and I never will be. And you've got to believe me: I love making love with you. You just have two very different and, it has to be said, very complementary ways of making love, and that's what I like about this situation.
Afterwards, if I did try to hide this size difference from you, it was just that I know you guys, with your egos directly linked to the size of your pecker. It was simpler to put you on an equal footing since, for me anyway, it doesn't matter."
Yeah...
I had my doubts that it didn't matter to her, but it was obvious to me that it mattered a lot to him. How else to explain the fact that the only two times I'd intercepted comments aimed at him, both times the advantageous dimensions of his equipment had been highlighted?
He obviously liked to be told he was well-equipped, and no doubt enjoyed knowing he was better endowed than the legitimate husband.
"- Does he know I have a smaller one than him?"
" - Well, stop it with that, you're heavy, there!" she said. And, to put an end to this uncomfortable discussion, she leaned over my member and kissed it.
It was indeed a good strategy to shut me up, under normal circumstances.
Except that here, my imagination was still running wild and when her little hand came to caress my sack, I couldn't help but bring up a question again:
"- Does he have bigger balls, too?"
She froze her gesture:
"Yes, huge! And when he ejaculates, he floods me with sperm every time."
From her excited tone, I understood that she was exaggerating on purpose to show me the absurdity of my questioning.
However, she added:
"But he's in a good position to know that quantity isn't enough.
Yeah... provided he was telling the truth.
I don't know why, but the image of a large phallus pouring streams of fertile sperm into my wife's vagina was enough to trigger an ejaculation as sudden as it was unexpected.
Jenny, who hadn't had time to take me back in her mouth, found herself sprayed.
After her surprise, I saw in her eyes a questioning look mixed with skepticism, but she didn't say anything more.
Fortunately, because I didn't always understand why all this had such an effect on me.
We hardly ever talked about the size difference again. It had just become an established fact that I had to live with.
In fact, inexplicably, it turned me on to know that my wife's lover was better endowed. Every time I thought about it while making love, it made me hard a little harder.
But I wouldn't have admitted it to Jenny.
In her eyes, I was twisted enough as it was.
Only once, when we were in the middle of foreplay, did I bring it up again:
"- Come to think of it, you must have felt it pass, the first time he took you from behind."
Instead of getting annoyed, she gave me a roguish smile:
"- Actually, I've never told you this, but I prefer anal with you: since it's thinner, penetration is less painful and I can concentrate better on my pleasure."
Sometimes there are advantages to having a smaller one.
Obviously, this was the opportunity to verify this immediately...
Re: The Landlord
The following months saw the beginning of a financial upturn for us.
After two years of drought, the market was finally showing real signs of recovery, one indicator after another was turning green, and I could reasonably hope that my salary level would soon recover.
As Delange was still honouring its financial commitments, we were finally feeling a little more at ease.
Leena was growing by leaps and bounds. She took her first steps before her first birthday.
Jennifer, who was always very close to her, was enjoying herself and showed no particular desire to rush things to find her first job.
Without wishing to be unkind, one could even say that she was putting off as long as possible the moment when she would have to do so, and consider leaving her daughter in the hands of an early childhood professional.
What I didn't know was that another idea was running through her pretty head...
"I saw my gynecologist today. she announced outright one evening.
"Ah? And everything's fine then?
"Almost. She had to remove my IUD; apparently I couldn't stand it, I was even starting to develop an allergy. "
" - Ah shit!" I said, genuinely annoyed for her. She had opted for this method of contraception when she returned from childbirth, preferring it to the pill for its less restrictive side. Considering her comings and goings between the first floor and the sixth floor, not having to think about it anymore was a rather notable comfort for her.
"And then you'll have to go back on the pill.
" Well, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about... You know I've always wanted two children, and I've always said to myself that, while I'm at it, I'd prefer them to be close enough to be able to share lots of things together... And since the money side is going a little better, I thought... "
" - That this was an opportunity to let nature take its course. "
" - That's it! But if you agree, of course."
" - Well, I must confess that I hadn't really thought about it yet... you're catching me a bit off guard... but now that you mention it, I think it's a pretty good idea... it's true that you're still free, you don't have any job constraints... that mine's going better... come on, why not... go for it! "
" - Is it true? You agree?!"
" - Yeah, I just told you! "
" - Wow! So great! I'm so happy!" she exclaimed, jumping onto my neck.
Then she jumped up and down, singing:
"We're going to make a baby! We're going to make a baby!"
She took Leena in her arms: "Can you believe it, you're going to be a big sister, my little darling!"
The little girl obviously didn't quite realize it, no, but she laughed to see her mother so exuberant.
I loved seeing them like that, happy and beaming with joy.
"- Hey, how about we put Leena to bed and get right down to it, would you like that?" I suggested naughtily.
"- Hell yes !"
**
After the lovemaking, Jenny curled up against me.
Eyes on the ceiling, I asked her:
"- Do you think we made a baby?"
"- Maybe... I don't know if with the IUD, there's a latency period like with the pill.... So maybe..."
"- Does he know? Have you told him?"
"- No, not yet. I wanted to decide this with you. Not him."
" - When are you going to tell him?"
" - I don't know... After all, we don't have to tell him right away... We could keep it to ourselves for a little while."
I smiled blankly. I appreciated the fact that she was finally reserving the exclusivity of her thoughts for me, and I liked leaving Delange out of our intimacy as a couple for once. However, her reasoning was flawed in one way :
"I'm fine with it, but how are you going to convince him to put on a condom all of a sudden, without any justification? Unless you cut him off for as long as it takes, but then again, he's bound to ask questions."
She disengaged herself from my shoulder and moved aside so that she could look at me, a look of incomprehension in her eyes.
Intuitively, I knew I wasn't going to like what she had to say.
"- But my love, there's no question of making him put on condoms and even less of restricting him."
It was my turn to display a look of total incomprehension:
"But... I thought you wanted to have a child... our child! What's more, you didn't want to talk to him about it... "
" - Because Leena isn't our child? "
" - Yes, but it's not the same... "
" – Well, precisely, it's out of the question for it not to be the same. Just imagine: you'll have two children, one of whom you're certain to be the father, and one of whom you're not. Don't you think that, even if you don't want to, even if you're a great father and even if you're convinced that you'll treat them identically, you don't think that, unconsciously or not, you'll end up looking at them differently? Honestly, are you sure you can put them on the same footing throughout your life?"
I didn't answer. She was right. Even if I'd never admit it, there would always be a difference.
Quite rightly, she took my silence for consent. With a delicate gesture, she caressed my face:
"I know it's hard for you, maybe even unfair, but you understand that there can be no compromise on this. These two children must be conceived under the same conditions, otherwise we're heading for disaster. The only difference will be that one was expected and not the other. But there's nothing we can do about that, we can just focus on loving them both equally."
Her reasoning was relentlessly common-sense, and it appalled me. We were off again and there was nothing I could do about it!
After two years of drought, the market was finally showing real signs of recovery, one indicator after another was turning green, and I could reasonably hope that my salary level would soon recover.
As Delange was still honouring its financial commitments, we were finally feeling a little more at ease.
Leena was growing by leaps and bounds. She took her first steps before her first birthday.
Jennifer, who was always very close to her, was enjoying herself and showed no particular desire to rush things to find her first job.
Without wishing to be unkind, one could even say that she was putting off as long as possible the moment when she would have to do so, and consider leaving her daughter in the hands of an early childhood professional.
What I didn't know was that another idea was running through her pretty head...
"I saw my gynecologist today. she announced outright one evening.
"Ah? And everything's fine then?
"Almost. She had to remove my IUD; apparently I couldn't stand it, I was even starting to develop an allergy. "
" - Ah shit!" I said, genuinely annoyed for her. She had opted for this method of contraception when she returned from childbirth, preferring it to the pill for its less restrictive side. Considering her comings and goings between the first floor and the sixth floor, not having to think about it anymore was a rather notable comfort for her.
"And then you'll have to go back on the pill.
" Well, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about... You know I've always wanted two children, and I've always said to myself that, while I'm at it, I'd prefer them to be close enough to be able to share lots of things together... And since the money side is going a little better, I thought... "
" - That this was an opportunity to let nature take its course. "
" - That's it! But if you agree, of course."
" - Well, I must confess that I hadn't really thought about it yet... you're catching me a bit off guard... but now that you mention it, I think it's a pretty good idea... it's true that you're still free, you don't have any job constraints... that mine's going better... come on, why not... go for it! "
" - Is it true? You agree?!"
" - Yeah, I just told you! "
" - Wow! So great! I'm so happy!" she exclaimed, jumping onto my neck.
Then she jumped up and down, singing:
"We're going to make a baby! We're going to make a baby!"
She took Leena in her arms: "Can you believe it, you're going to be a big sister, my little darling!"
The little girl obviously didn't quite realize it, no, but she laughed to see her mother so exuberant.
I loved seeing them like that, happy and beaming with joy.
"- Hey, how about we put Leena to bed and get right down to it, would you like that?" I suggested naughtily.
"- Hell yes !"
**
After the lovemaking, Jenny curled up against me.
Eyes on the ceiling, I asked her:
"- Do you think we made a baby?"
"- Maybe... I don't know if with the IUD, there's a latency period like with the pill.... So maybe..."
"- Does he know? Have you told him?"
"- No, not yet. I wanted to decide this with you. Not him."
" - When are you going to tell him?"
" - I don't know... After all, we don't have to tell him right away... We could keep it to ourselves for a little while."
I smiled blankly. I appreciated the fact that she was finally reserving the exclusivity of her thoughts for me, and I liked leaving Delange out of our intimacy as a couple for once. However, her reasoning was flawed in one way :
"I'm fine with it, but how are you going to convince him to put on a condom all of a sudden, without any justification? Unless you cut him off for as long as it takes, but then again, he's bound to ask questions."
She disengaged herself from my shoulder and moved aside so that she could look at me, a look of incomprehension in her eyes.
Intuitively, I knew I wasn't going to like what she had to say.
"- But my love, there's no question of making him put on condoms and even less of restricting him."
It was my turn to display a look of total incomprehension:
"But... I thought you wanted to have a child... our child! What's more, you didn't want to talk to him about it... "
" - Because Leena isn't our child? "
" - Yes, but it's not the same... "
" – Well, precisely, it's out of the question for it not to be the same. Just imagine: you'll have two children, one of whom you're certain to be the father, and one of whom you're not. Don't you think that, even if you don't want to, even if you're a great father and even if you're convinced that you'll treat them identically, you don't think that, unconsciously or not, you'll end up looking at them differently? Honestly, are you sure you can put them on the same footing throughout your life?"
I didn't answer. She was right. Even if I'd never admit it, there would always be a difference.
Quite rightly, she took my silence for consent. With a delicate gesture, she caressed my face:
"I know it's hard for you, maybe even unfair, but you understand that there can be no compromise on this. These two children must be conceived under the same conditions, otherwise we're heading for disaster. The only difference will be that one was expected and not the other. But there's nothing we can do about that, we can just focus on loving them both equally."
Her reasoning was relentlessly common-sense, and it appalled me. We were off again and there was nothing I could do about it!
-
- Trainable
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Tue Oct 11, 2022 12:55 pm
Re: The Landlord
Wow! She’s amazing. Can’t wait for the next installment.
MBD
MBD
Re: The Landlord
On reflection, there was still one parameter that I had much more control over than with the previous conception: That was the number and frequency of my "contributions".
If I couldn't stop my rival from planting his little seed, I could at least put all the chances on my side.
This time, there was no question of going on a week-long internship at the height of the fertility season.
By the same token, it was easy enough to deduce that the more we did it, the higher my "rating" would rise.
So I didn't hold back and made the most of the time when the lover wasn't in the know.
I think Jen noticed my renewed motivation for the thing, but in any case, she didn't complain - in fact, she was rather amused.
Inevitably, Delange found out about it after a while.
I don't know if he too became attached to the competition, but the fact remains that Jennifer became pregnant a few weeks later.
***
As on the previous occasion, our landlord invited himself unexpectedly for a three-way interview that had almost become a ritual when an important decision had to be made.
It had been a while since I'd seen him, since it was Jenny who usually took over.
It struck me as odd how affectionate Leena was with him. She behaved almost like she did with me.
At the same time, how could it be otherwise? He had the same attentions as me, the same tender gestures, the same gentle words...
Not exactly the same, of course, but equivalent in any case. He treated her like a daughter, which maybe she was.
Jenny also seemed very comfortable.
She rarely had the opportunity to have her "two men" together, and she knew my reservations about Delange, even after all that had happened. But that didn't stop her from twirling around like a kid happy to have her little world around her.
Once his glass of traditional alcohol had been poured, and the little girl had calmed down and begged for a cuddle, Delange got down to business as usual. He raised his glass:
"- Let's drink to this wonderful news, to Jenny's soon-to-be-round belly and to this child who's going to add to your little family..."
After toasting all together, he continued:
"- I'd like to thank you both most sincerely for having once again, and this time voluntarily, associated me with this adventure. I'm sure it wasn't easy for you, David, to give up the exclusivity you were entitled to claim, but I have to say that I totally understand and adhere to Jenny's logic... I know what you're thinking: the opposite would have been astonishing, given that I'm the main beneficiary. And you're not fundamentally wrong, but all the same, I sincerely think you've made the right choice for your family's psychological equilibrium.
Having said that, I don't suppose you'll mind if we renew our 'agreement': in exchange for you renouncing your search for this child's genetic paternity, I undertake to cover all the costs associated with his upbringing."
I nodded. Indeed, this agreement was now just a formality. Once I'd accepted the possibility that he might be the genetic father of our second child, I wasn't going to rush out and do a DNA test. The agreement was self-evident, and the financial offer in return was just a clever face-saving device. Technically, we didn't need it.
However, I wasn't at all expecting the second part of his offer...
"- Of course, I'll continue to provide you with this little income to help you make ends meet, and I'd like to make you one last proposal...
I know that you love this apartment, that Jenny has decorated it beautifully and that it feels like your own little nest, but I thought that with four of you, it might be a little cramped... Leena doesn't have her own room as it is, so with a baby on top of it... As it happens, the Saulniers, the tenants of the second floor, have given me their notice for two months... So I thought of you... it's a five rooms condo... one bedroom for you, one for Leena, one for the baby... and only one floor to climb for a young pregnant woman with a toddler. "
I was speechless for at least two minutes. Jen, as surprised as I was, was in the same state.
All I finally said was:
"- And you'd do it for us at what price?"
"The same as this one, of course.
That is, free.
Jen threw herself at him to kiss him:
" - That was your surprise, smartass!"
If I couldn't stop my rival from planting his little seed, I could at least put all the chances on my side.
This time, there was no question of going on a week-long internship at the height of the fertility season.
By the same token, it was easy enough to deduce that the more we did it, the higher my "rating" would rise.
So I didn't hold back and made the most of the time when the lover wasn't in the know.
I think Jen noticed my renewed motivation for the thing, but in any case, she didn't complain - in fact, she was rather amused.
Inevitably, Delange found out about it after a while.
I don't know if he too became attached to the competition, but the fact remains that Jennifer became pregnant a few weeks later.
***
As on the previous occasion, our landlord invited himself unexpectedly for a three-way interview that had almost become a ritual when an important decision had to be made.
It had been a while since I'd seen him, since it was Jenny who usually took over.
It struck me as odd how affectionate Leena was with him. She behaved almost like she did with me.
At the same time, how could it be otherwise? He had the same attentions as me, the same tender gestures, the same gentle words...
Not exactly the same, of course, but equivalent in any case. He treated her like a daughter, which maybe she was.
Jenny also seemed very comfortable.
She rarely had the opportunity to have her "two men" together, and she knew my reservations about Delange, even after all that had happened. But that didn't stop her from twirling around like a kid happy to have her little world around her.
Once his glass of traditional alcohol had been poured, and the little girl had calmed down and begged for a cuddle, Delange got down to business as usual. He raised his glass:
"- Let's drink to this wonderful news, to Jenny's soon-to-be-round belly and to this child who's going to add to your little family..."
After toasting all together, he continued:
"- I'd like to thank you both most sincerely for having once again, and this time voluntarily, associated me with this adventure. I'm sure it wasn't easy for you, David, to give up the exclusivity you were entitled to claim, but I have to say that I totally understand and adhere to Jenny's logic... I know what you're thinking: the opposite would have been astonishing, given that I'm the main beneficiary. And you're not fundamentally wrong, but all the same, I sincerely think you've made the right choice for your family's psychological equilibrium.
Having said that, I don't suppose you'll mind if we renew our 'agreement': in exchange for you renouncing your search for this child's genetic paternity, I undertake to cover all the costs associated with his upbringing."
I nodded. Indeed, this agreement was now just a formality. Once I'd accepted the possibility that he might be the genetic father of our second child, I wasn't going to rush out and do a DNA test. The agreement was self-evident, and the financial offer in return was just a clever face-saving device. Technically, we didn't need it.
However, I wasn't at all expecting the second part of his offer...
"- Of course, I'll continue to provide you with this little income to help you make ends meet, and I'd like to make you one last proposal...
I know that you love this apartment, that Jenny has decorated it beautifully and that it feels like your own little nest, but I thought that with four of you, it might be a little cramped... Leena doesn't have her own room as it is, so with a baby on top of it... As it happens, the Saulniers, the tenants of the second floor, have given me their notice for two months... So I thought of you... it's a five rooms condo... one bedroom for you, one for Leena, one for the baby... and only one floor to climb for a young pregnant woman with a toddler. "
I was speechless for at least two minutes. Jen, as surprised as I was, was in the same state.
All I finally said was:
"- And you'd do it for us at what price?"
"The same as this one, of course.
That is, free.
Jen threw herself at him to kiss him:
" - That was your surprise, smartass!"
Re: The Landlord
I wouldn't be able to curb my curiosity despite the damage it could do and I think I'd be tempted to have DNA tests done secretly. I wonder how (if?) David will be able to control himself?
Re: The Landlord
So would I, maybe. That's why it's a fiction
Re: The Landlord
Sure enough, it was convenient not to have five floors to climb. Besides, the apartment was so big that we were afraid we'd get lost at first. But we quickly got used to it.
Admittedly, the large volumes and high ceilings didn't have the charm of our cosy little cocoon under the roofs, especially since, when it came to decorating, the Saulniers had really crappy taste. But that didn't scare my favorite decorating fairy.
What's more, transforming this cold, empty space into our new "home" proved to be a challenge worthy of her abilities, and one that was sure to keep her busy throughout the rest of her pregnancy.
One of the other advantages of the move was that my beloved's journeys between her home and her lover’s would now be much more discreet. No more crossing five landings and passing twice as many doors likely to open on tenants curious or astonished by all these comings and goings, with the icing on the cake: the departure of Madame Saulnier, who wasn't the last to play the magpie.
Obviously, I don't know whether it was this new comfort or the increased libido due to the second trimester of pregnancy, but I did seem to notice a real increase in my wife's visits to the ground floor.
It was during one of these “visits” that I made a curious discovery.
Taking advantage of Jenny's absence, I was tidying up the room I'd been using as an office and which would soon become our second child's bedroom.
This room, like all the bedrooms and lounges in this building built at the beginning of the last century, features a fireplace that must have been in use before central heating was installed.
It had long since lost its original use, and had to make do with the decorative function now assigned to it. Even if you could, in good faith, be critical of the decorative aspect of these marble and stucco corbelled “monsters”.
As I was working not far from the fireplace, a sound caught my attention. A relatively muffled sound, but explicit enough for me to pause in the hope of hearing it again, confirming my first impression and pinpointing its origin.
It happened again.
It came from the chimney.
More to the point, the noise was more audible the closer I got to the chimney.
I knelt down to put my ear close to the brass air vent that adorned the bottom of the dark plate that closed the condemned hearth.
No doubt about it, it was coming from there.
And no more doubts about what it was.
Screams.
Screams, presumably from a neighboring apartment, transmitted through the ancient air duct.
Screams of pleasure.
Screams of pleasure I'd recognize anywhere.
It came as a shock.
I'd known for a long time that when Jenny went down to Delange's, it wasn't to make a Rummy. I'd accepted and digested that.
However, there was a world of difference between the intellectual acceptance of my wife's double life and the blatant, raw auditory proof of it.
I've already had occasion to say that Jenny is quite voluble when it comes to pleasure, both in quantity and tone. It even worried me a little when we first moved into the building.
Naively, I thought it would be different with him. Hadn't she told me herself that he was gentler, more patient?
So no, I hadn't imagined these great lyrical flights, these great orgasmic cries that, through the pipes, reached my ear.
And yet, how could it have been otherwise?
She had admitted to me that she felt pleasure in her arms, and this was her way of expressing it.
The only thing was, I wasn't supposed to hear those cries and I'd been taken by surprise.
As the last perceptible moans faded away, I suddenly realized with horror that if I had been able to witness these intimate outbursts thanks to a simple combination of circumstances, the same combination of circumstances could, and should, have enabled the apartment's former tenants to witness them too, and by a simple correlation of the visits received by the landlord, they should have had no great difficulty in identifying the protagonists of these parties of pleasure.
And knowing Mother Saulnier's qualities as a gossip, the whole building must have known about it in no time!
With a lump in my throat, I realized that I might have been the last person in the building to know the exact nature of the relationship between my wife and our landlord.
I now understood better the snide or condescending looks: I had indeed been “the cuckold of the sixth” all along.
When Jenny came home, I had to stare at her funny. She looked at me and asked:
“- Are you okay?”
“I'm fine. How about you? Was it good?”
She tilted her head a little, scrutinizing me a little more. It was true that this wasn't the kind of question I'd been asking her anymore.
“- Yes, fine... Are you sure you're okay?”
“ - Yes yes!”
Waiting for her to return, I'd had time to think.
Should I tell her or not?
Honesty would have dictated yes, so she'd know where she stood with the other tenants in the building.
But to tell her that if not everything could be heard from the corner room, then at least the most explicit part, was to ensure that I wouldn't hear anything else, not anymore. They'd manage not to be heard.
And I already knew I was going to be hooked. I already knew that I would spend many hours sitting on the floor by the fireplace, listening to my wife making love to her lover. And I didn't want to ruin this miraculous chance to be associated, even if only as a hidden witness, with this adulterous affair that was materializing the most unavowable of my fantasies.
So I played innocent. I said nothing.
And the very next time, I was stationed by the fireplace.
Of course, it was far from an ideal listening post. There was a lot of extraneous noise coming from the building, and it was really only when “things” got going that they became “interesting”.
Interesting wasn't the right word for me, the voyeuristic, sharing husband. Above all, it was unsettling to hear my little wife cum in someone else's arms.
Even if it didn't seem any stronger or more intense than it was with me, even if those cries and moans were something I too often wrung out of her.
The very fact that it was someone else who was giving her this pleasure was turning my senses.
Every time, I felt a certain discomfort listening to them like that. A sort of shameful feeling.
I felt like I was violating their privacy.
But I couldn't help going back whenever I was able to. I couldn't help it, I had to listen, I had to know what was going on. And never mind if it was hard to hear, never mind if it was more frustrating than anything else. I was there and I listened.
I invariably ended up with my dick in my hand. I couldn't help it either. My wrists often followed the rhythm of their cries. And very often, I couldn't hold back for very long.
That wasn't going to cure my sense of shame...
When I managed to contain myself, it wasn't unusual for me to jump on her when she returned, excited as a lark.
Admittedly, the large volumes and high ceilings didn't have the charm of our cosy little cocoon under the roofs, especially since, when it came to decorating, the Saulniers had really crappy taste. But that didn't scare my favorite decorating fairy.
What's more, transforming this cold, empty space into our new "home" proved to be a challenge worthy of her abilities, and one that was sure to keep her busy throughout the rest of her pregnancy.
One of the other advantages of the move was that my beloved's journeys between her home and her lover’s would now be much more discreet. No more crossing five landings and passing twice as many doors likely to open on tenants curious or astonished by all these comings and goings, with the icing on the cake: the departure of Madame Saulnier, who wasn't the last to play the magpie.
Obviously, I don't know whether it was this new comfort or the increased libido due to the second trimester of pregnancy, but I did seem to notice a real increase in my wife's visits to the ground floor.
It was during one of these “visits” that I made a curious discovery.
Taking advantage of Jenny's absence, I was tidying up the room I'd been using as an office and which would soon become our second child's bedroom.
This room, like all the bedrooms and lounges in this building built at the beginning of the last century, features a fireplace that must have been in use before central heating was installed.
It had long since lost its original use, and had to make do with the decorative function now assigned to it. Even if you could, in good faith, be critical of the decorative aspect of these marble and stucco corbelled “monsters”.
As I was working not far from the fireplace, a sound caught my attention. A relatively muffled sound, but explicit enough for me to pause in the hope of hearing it again, confirming my first impression and pinpointing its origin.
It happened again.
It came from the chimney.
More to the point, the noise was more audible the closer I got to the chimney.
I knelt down to put my ear close to the brass air vent that adorned the bottom of the dark plate that closed the condemned hearth.
No doubt about it, it was coming from there.
And no more doubts about what it was.
Screams.
Screams, presumably from a neighboring apartment, transmitted through the ancient air duct.
Screams of pleasure.
Screams of pleasure I'd recognize anywhere.
It came as a shock.
I'd known for a long time that when Jenny went down to Delange's, it wasn't to make a Rummy. I'd accepted and digested that.
However, there was a world of difference between the intellectual acceptance of my wife's double life and the blatant, raw auditory proof of it.
I've already had occasion to say that Jenny is quite voluble when it comes to pleasure, both in quantity and tone. It even worried me a little when we first moved into the building.
Naively, I thought it would be different with him. Hadn't she told me herself that he was gentler, more patient?
So no, I hadn't imagined these great lyrical flights, these great orgasmic cries that, through the pipes, reached my ear.
And yet, how could it have been otherwise?
She had admitted to me that she felt pleasure in her arms, and this was her way of expressing it.
The only thing was, I wasn't supposed to hear those cries and I'd been taken by surprise.
As the last perceptible moans faded away, I suddenly realized with horror that if I had been able to witness these intimate outbursts thanks to a simple combination of circumstances, the same combination of circumstances could, and should, have enabled the apartment's former tenants to witness them too, and by a simple correlation of the visits received by the landlord, they should have had no great difficulty in identifying the protagonists of these parties of pleasure.
And knowing Mother Saulnier's qualities as a gossip, the whole building must have known about it in no time!
With a lump in my throat, I realized that I might have been the last person in the building to know the exact nature of the relationship between my wife and our landlord.
I now understood better the snide or condescending looks: I had indeed been “the cuckold of the sixth” all along.
When Jenny came home, I had to stare at her funny. She looked at me and asked:
“- Are you okay?”
“I'm fine. How about you? Was it good?”
She tilted her head a little, scrutinizing me a little more. It was true that this wasn't the kind of question I'd been asking her anymore.
“- Yes, fine... Are you sure you're okay?”
“ - Yes yes!”
Waiting for her to return, I'd had time to think.
Should I tell her or not?
Honesty would have dictated yes, so she'd know where she stood with the other tenants in the building.
But to tell her that if not everything could be heard from the corner room, then at least the most explicit part, was to ensure that I wouldn't hear anything else, not anymore. They'd manage not to be heard.
And I already knew I was going to be hooked. I already knew that I would spend many hours sitting on the floor by the fireplace, listening to my wife making love to her lover. And I didn't want to ruin this miraculous chance to be associated, even if only as a hidden witness, with this adulterous affair that was materializing the most unavowable of my fantasies.
So I played innocent. I said nothing.
And the very next time, I was stationed by the fireplace.
Of course, it was far from an ideal listening post. There was a lot of extraneous noise coming from the building, and it was really only when “things” got going that they became “interesting”.
Interesting wasn't the right word for me, the voyeuristic, sharing husband. Above all, it was unsettling to hear my little wife cum in someone else's arms.
Even if it didn't seem any stronger or more intense than it was with me, even if those cries and moans were something I too often wrung out of her.
The very fact that it was someone else who was giving her this pleasure was turning my senses.
Every time, I felt a certain discomfort listening to them like that. A sort of shameful feeling.
I felt like I was violating their privacy.
But I couldn't help going back whenever I was able to. I couldn't help it, I had to listen, I had to know what was going on. And never mind if it was hard to hear, never mind if it was more frustrating than anything else. I was there and I listened.
I invariably ended up with my dick in my hand. I couldn't help it either. My wrists often followed the rhythm of their cries. And very often, I couldn't hold back for very long.
That wasn't going to cure my sense of shame...
When I managed to contain myself, it wasn't unusual for me to jump on her when she returned, excited as a lark.
Re: The Landlord
And so, honored regularly by her two men, my darling brought her second pregnancy to term.
The second birth went just as well as the first. No worries at all.
This time it was a boy. We named him Tom.
For a brief moment, I feared that Jennifer would want to call him Leo.
But it was an unfounded fear. She didn't even mention the possibility.
I'm glad she didn't, because I think that would have been a bit too much for me.
***
We soon fell back into our routine.
Every evening, I'd come home to find a little wife in full bloom, happy to look after her two toddlers, sometimes tired when they gave her a hard time, but always cheerful.
Regularly, two or three times a week, she'd let me take over the running of the house and she'd go downstairs.
When the children weren't taking up too much of my time, I'd spend a few minutes by the “indiscreet fireplace”.
Regularly, she would also spend the whole night on the first floor.
We had reached a point of equilibrium in our rather unusual ménage à trois. Everyone was happy.
Jenny, for one. She was enjoying her two men in the most optimal way possible: all the good things (tenderness, hanky-panky, good times...) without the troubles and inevitable downsides of married life. Both of us were too happy to have her with us to waste our shared moments in vain squabbles.
In fact, she was so happy with her lot that she wasn't even talking about getting a job at the moment.
Raising two small children and looking after two men was already more than enough for her.
Delange was also taking advantage of the situation, of course.
As he'd already told us, he couldn't have wished for better conditions in which to spend his old age: he could enjoy the charms of a willing young lady at will, and, to top it all off, he had the reasonable hope of finally leaving a progeny to posterity.
While Tom was still stammering, Leena, rather ahead of her time, was beginning to speak well.
To everyone, he was Grandpa Leo. That's what the kids called him, and Jenny and I adopted the name without thinking about it.
When the little girl would ask me where her mother was, I'd reply, “She's at Grandpa Leo's.”
No matter how advanced she was, at almost three years old, she still didn't wonder what Mom could be doing at Grandpa Leo's for so long and so often. She took it for granted.
I hoped it would stay that way for a long time to come, and that the question would come as late as possible.
I also dreaded the moment when she and her brother would realize that they had no official family ties to this Grandpa Leo, and that, unlike the other grandpas, he was neither their father's nor their mother's father.
I knew we could get away with it, at least at first.
But there would come a time when 2 + 2 = 4, even in the most innocent of minds.
And what was in it for me?
After all, I was the one making the most concessions: I was sharing my darling's love, body and time when any husband could legitimately hope to keep it all to himself.
After all, I could have put an end to this ubiquitous situation a long time ago; all I had to do was ask Jen to choose between Delange and me.
Subconsciously, I knew she would have chosen me.
So why didn't I?
Well, beyond the realization of a Candaulist fantasy I'd never even suspected until I'd lived it, I loved Jennifer too much to force her into such a Kafkaesque dilemma.
All I wanted was her happiness. My happiness depended on hers.
If she was happy, then I was too.
And if that meant sharing her, then I would share her.
It's true that it cost me sometimes. Let's not kid ourselves.
It bored me to see her getting ready for him, to see her going to his place or with him.
It always turned me inside out to know that she was with him, under him... to know that he was inside her...
At times, I even hated myself, accusing myself of being a crybaby.
But I managed to keep all my morbidities and recriminations under wraps, because I knew instinctively that time was on my side, that life was moving on and that, with the age difference, my rival would be out of the race before me.
What I didn't know was that life had decided to move on much faster than expected...
The second birth went just as well as the first. No worries at all.
This time it was a boy. We named him Tom.
For a brief moment, I feared that Jennifer would want to call him Leo.
But it was an unfounded fear. She didn't even mention the possibility.
I'm glad she didn't, because I think that would have been a bit too much for me.
***
We soon fell back into our routine.
Every evening, I'd come home to find a little wife in full bloom, happy to look after her two toddlers, sometimes tired when they gave her a hard time, but always cheerful.
Regularly, two or three times a week, she'd let me take over the running of the house and she'd go downstairs.
When the children weren't taking up too much of my time, I'd spend a few minutes by the “indiscreet fireplace”.
Regularly, she would also spend the whole night on the first floor.
We had reached a point of equilibrium in our rather unusual ménage à trois. Everyone was happy.
Jenny, for one. She was enjoying her two men in the most optimal way possible: all the good things (tenderness, hanky-panky, good times...) without the troubles and inevitable downsides of married life. Both of us were too happy to have her with us to waste our shared moments in vain squabbles.
In fact, she was so happy with her lot that she wasn't even talking about getting a job at the moment.
Raising two small children and looking after two men was already more than enough for her.
Delange was also taking advantage of the situation, of course.
As he'd already told us, he couldn't have wished for better conditions in which to spend his old age: he could enjoy the charms of a willing young lady at will, and, to top it all off, he had the reasonable hope of finally leaving a progeny to posterity.
While Tom was still stammering, Leena, rather ahead of her time, was beginning to speak well.
To everyone, he was Grandpa Leo. That's what the kids called him, and Jenny and I adopted the name without thinking about it.
When the little girl would ask me where her mother was, I'd reply, “She's at Grandpa Leo's.”
No matter how advanced she was, at almost three years old, she still didn't wonder what Mom could be doing at Grandpa Leo's for so long and so often. She took it for granted.
I hoped it would stay that way for a long time to come, and that the question would come as late as possible.
I also dreaded the moment when she and her brother would realize that they had no official family ties to this Grandpa Leo, and that, unlike the other grandpas, he was neither their father's nor their mother's father.
I knew we could get away with it, at least at first.
But there would come a time when 2 + 2 = 4, even in the most innocent of minds.
And what was in it for me?
After all, I was the one making the most concessions: I was sharing my darling's love, body and time when any husband could legitimately hope to keep it all to himself.
After all, I could have put an end to this ubiquitous situation a long time ago; all I had to do was ask Jen to choose between Delange and me.
Subconsciously, I knew she would have chosen me.
So why didn't I?
Well, beyond the realization of a Candaulist fantasy I'd never even suspected until I'd lived it, I loved Jennifer too much to force her into such a Kafkaesque dilemma.
All I wanted was her happiness. My happiness depended on hers.
If she was happy, then I was too.
And if that meant sharing her, then I would share her.
It's true that it cost me sometimes. Let's not kid ourselves.
It bored me to see her getting ready for him, to see her going to his place or with him.
It always turned me inside out to know that she was with him, under him... to know that he was inside her...
At times, I even hated myself, accusing myself of being a crybaby.
But I managed to keep all my morbidities and recriminations under wraps, because I knew instinctively that time was on my side, that life was moving on and that, with the age difference, my rival would be out of the race before me.
What I didn't know was that life had decided to move on much faster than expected...
Re: The Landlord
I am as always on the edge of my seat when you leave us like this. Loving your story.
- Seductionrules
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Re: The Landlord
Great story thank you.
Eagerly waiting for the next chapter
Eagerly waiting for the next chapter