The Landlord

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Frenchie
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The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Thu Feb 22, 2024 8:20 am

Hello,

As a long-time reader of this forum, I'd like to share one of my own stories with you.

As my nickname says, English is not my first language, although I can read it almost easily.

So I've enlisted the help of a translator and, despite my checks, I hope there won't be too many mistakes and that it'll still be a pleasant read.



So… enjoy

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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Thu Feb 22, 2024 8:21 am

We should never have seen this apartment.

It was too beautiful, too big, too well located... too everything!
Too expensive too, of course.

But the guy from the agency insisted on showing it to us anyway.
With a wink that I didn't know how to interpret at the time, he assured us that we had everything we needed to make a good impression on the landlord and that, with a bit of luck, he might even agree to a small reduction in the advertised rent.


And it's true that we immediately fell under the spell of the place.
In a quiet neighborhood, the building was of a respectable standard, unlike anything we'd seen before.
It's true that when you're a young couple starting out in life, you're obliged not to be too fussy about quality, but frankly, the parade of gloomy corridors, tagged elevator shafts and smashed mailboxes had begun to sap our morale.

So, discovering this gleaming entrance and this ancestral wooden staircase smelling of encaustic immediately put us in a good mood.

And the apartment was a dream!
Quite large, bright rooms, an unobstructed view with no facing building, spotless sanitary facilities, a fully-equipped kitchen... We wondered what we'd done to deserve this.
Admittedly, it was in the attic, on the sixth floor without an elevator, but we were young and we weren't going to stop there.

It was too good to be true, and maybe that's what should have tipped me off.
But dazzled by the assets of this 3-room apartment where we were already imagining building our cocoon, I could only think of one thing: We had to have it!

The agency representative explained to us that the list of suitors was as long as his arm, and that the owner had the option of renting it at a much higher price, but that for him, the economic criterion was not paramount.
In fact, he preferred to rent at a lower price than the market price, but to tenants who would respect the cleanliness, environment and serenity of the premises.
That's why, even though the rent was well above our budget, he offered it to us because, if we agreed, an effort could be made on the cost.

We immediately replied that we were obviously up for it, that there was no problem in respecting the conditions set out (we weren't party people) and that we were keen to know what it would take to "agree".

"- It's not difficult, it'll be done by feel, you'll have to make a good impression on the owner : He lives on the first floor, we'll just have to go and see him and he'll probably ask you a few questions." Answered the agent, grabbing his cell phone... " Mr. Delange? I'm here with the young couple I told you about... They're very interested... Can we come down and meet you?"

***
Mr. Delange was a well-preserved widower in his sixties. He must have been athletic in his youth, and had retained an imposing build, even if he was now slightly overweight.

As soon as we arrived, despite a smile of convenience, we felt ourselves scanned by his intense blue gaze.

His home had the atmosphere of an antique museum.
Dozens of visibly expensive collectors' items lined every nook and cranny of the immense apartment; likewise, it took a certain amount of willpower to guess the color of the ancestral wallpaper behind the multitude of paintings that covered almost every wall.

After crossing a long corridor worthy of the Louvre's hidden storerooms, the man invited us to sit down on a deep sofa while he dislodged a listless cat from the armchair opposite.

While giving us the lowdown on his building, which he apparently owned outright, he asked us many questions about where we came from, our professional activities, our plans...
While he didn't seem to mind that Jennifer was in the process of finishing her studies, and that our resources were therefore based solely on my income, he did seem more skeptical about our young age: in his opinion, young couples inevitably have children, and children make noise, dirt and disturbance.

To which we were quick to reply that we had absolutely no plans to do so in the short or medium term.
Even though we were intimidated by the character and the setting, we were prepared to fight hard for this unexpected gem.

It was when I unexpectedly followed the line of our host's gaze that I understood the salesman's initial allusion and knew what strategy to adopt to win our case...

Jenny hadn't premeditated her outfit.

She'd just taken advantage of the sun's first really warm rays to put on an outfit that I was particularly fond of: she knew that with this pale yellow miniskirt and this orange top, I'd be proud to walk on her arm throughout this interminable day of visits.
Of course, wearing a miniskirt isn't necessarily a wise choice when you know you're going to be climbing a lot of stairs, but all she had to do was take a few basic precautions, like being careful to let the men climb in front of her, and her modesty would be safe.

But what she hadn't imagined was that sitting like this, at the back of this comfortable sofa, the skirt would ride up and become even more mini, revealing a very appreciable portion of her long, tapered legs.

Of course, this hadn't escaped the attention of the owner, sitting directly opposite, whose gaze seemed to be magnetized by the sight, a welcome change from his old paintings.

As soon as I realized that the old man was particularly interested in my companion's curves, I placed a nonchalant hand on her left knee and applied a discreet pull, the ultimate aim of which was to noticeably spread her pretty legs, which had hitherto been snugly pressed together.
At first, she resisted, giving me a look of outraged incomprehension.
But when I insisted, she finally opened the angle of her thighs slightly, much to the delight of our interlocutor, whose complexion soon turned a deep bistre.

Jennifer, too, finally understood my tactics and accentuated the pause by crossing and uncrossing her legs in a way that was as incredibly natural as it was indecent.

Now that was what I call pulling out all the stops!
Now all we had to do was wait for the verdict.


Mr. Delange eventually gave us the go-ahead, reluctantly, it seemed, but not without offering us a tour of the inner courtyard, to which he granted access to all his tenants, provided, of course, that they respected the cleanliness and calm of the premises.

"- Ah, Mr Delange, if you don't mind, I still have some administrative paperwork to finalize with Mr Wercher... I'll leave you to act as guide to Mademoiselle Gallais."
"-With pleasure!"

Once I was alone with the agent, he reassured me that he was very confident. We'd made a very good impression and he added, with a knowing wink, that we'd taken the best possible approach and that all we needed now was a quick confirmation.
I was in the process of signing the final visit reports when Jennifer returned with Delange.
"- How was the courtyard?"
"Magnificent!" Jenny confirmed laconically, clearly won over and even confused.

We took our leave of the owner and agent with the promise of a prompt reply.

Back in our car, I laughed out loud:
"Did you see how we smoked him out? When you spread your thighs, I thought he was going to have a heart attack! Ha! Ha!"
Jenny's enthusiasm was more tempered than mine, and she giggled shyly. Her cheeks were still pink from having used her charms so openly for the first time to get something done.
"I hope we get it."
" - Well, after that, I hope so, too! Because if not, I don't know what more we can do!"

In fact, the only dark spot in the picture was the financial aspect. I knew that we were far from having the best record when it came to resources, and in these times of crisis, landlords were more than a little skittish on the subject. Signing a three-year lease with a couple who risked defaulting on their debts within a few months was a risk few were prepared to take. We'd already paid the price!
But I didn't want to worry my darling, and continued to display unfailing optimism.

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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Thu Feb 22, 2024 9:45 pm

The answer came within the week: OK.
And the rent was right at the top end of our budget.

We jumped for joy and broke out the champagne to celebrate.
***

For the move, three months later, as many friends and family as possible were mobilized, with the main instructions being to avoid making a mess in the communal areas, and to avoid shouting on the stairs as much as possible.
This was all the more essential as Mr. Delange made sure to be particularly present outside his apartment that day.

I secretly hoped that it was only to "monitor" this unusual activity in his building, and that we wouldn't have to worry about him every time we went out afterwards. After all, we have to admit that it was particularly stressful to handle bulky furniture on the narrow staircase under the inquisitive eye of the landlord, who was ostensibly making sure we didn't damage anything.

However, the move went off without a hitch. That is, until Jenny, in her haste, missed one of the last steps on her way down the stairs and went into a particularly impressive glide that Nureyev himself would not have denied.
The miracle was that, on her downward trajectory, she opportunely bumped into Mr Delange, who was delighted to demonstrate that, despite his age, he still had good reflexes.
He caught her with his muscular arms and prevented her from crashing to the ground. She had barely had time to scream.
"- Are you all right, young lady ?" Inquired the providential man.
"- Yes, thank you! It's a good thing you were here, otherwise I'd be dead !"
" - Come on ! Come on !"

But as she tried to stand up, she put her left foot on the ground and winced in pain:
"- It hurts like hell ! I think I've sprained it !"
"- Oh no, shit ! This really isn't the time !"
" - Because you think I did it on purpose !? "
" - No, but we've got better things to do than go to the emergency room, damn it ! Couldn't you have been a little more careful instead of rushing off !"
She didn't answer, but the furious look on her face spoke for itself.

"Come on ! Come on, kids ! Don't squabble over such a little thing ! interjected Mr Delange. I must have enough in my medicine cabinet to treat this painful ankle without having to go to hospital straight away ! Let me take care of the young lady, and keep going back and forth !"
"- No-no, I'll be fine, don't worry. I don't want to disturb you !" Jenny protested.
"- Don't be silly. You can see you can't stand on your own two feet. You're no good to us on one leg. On the contrary, it'll slow us down!
"- Of course! Listen to your friend, he's right. And you're not bothering me at all!"
Jenny reluctantly gave in and limped off with our landlord, giving me one last reproachful look, which I attributed to her temporary irritation.

There was at least one advantage to the whole affair: we could finally come and go without being watched by "Big Grand-Father"!


It was a good hour later, when the hardest part was over, that I asked about my fiancée's health.
I rang Mr. Delange's doorbell and he invited me to follow him inside.
"Apparently, there was more fear than harm: I gave her some ointment and the ankle didn't swell. It's probably not a sprain but a minor strain."
"Good, because I can't see myself setting up the apartment without her," I joked.

Jennifer was lying half stretched out on the sofa, a blanket covering her legs.
"Are you feeling better?"
" - Yes-yes." She replied in a restrained tone in which I still detected a few accents of sulkiness.
" - Was Mr. Delange's ointment effective? "
" - Apparently. "
"- Let me see. »
She pulled back the bottom of the blanket to show me her ankle, but I was startled to realize that her legs were completely bare under the blanket.
I'd noticed her sneakers and socks at the foot of the couch when I arrived, but I'd overlooked her jeans folded on the back of the armchair. Why did she have to take off her pants to put ointment on her ankle?
At my questioning glance, she gave a little nod of the shoulder, as if to say: "Well, yes, that's how it is!

Ignoring our silent exchange, Delange intervened and involuntarily gave the answer to my questions:
"- Oh, yes, it's a very effective cream, provided you massage it in thoroughly to make sure the active ingredient penetrates... and as it's a little greasy, we preferred to remove the pants so as not to stain them."
Inwardly, I told myself that there was no need to take off the whole garment and that pulling it up to calf level would have been more than enough, but now I understood better: the man had offered to administer the massage himself and the "we preferred" was pure rhetoric. My darling hadn't dared to say no, and I didn't know how far the blanket had been pulled up, but the old man must have taken full advantage of the situation to caress her ankle and take a good look at her pretty, tanned legs.
In a way, I understood him and couldn't hold it against him: it was certainly a superb spectacle and, at his age, it could only bring back distant and pleasant memories.
I only hoped he hadn't overstepped the mark and offended her modesty, but she didn't seem embarrassed beyond a certain discomfort linked to the singularity of the situation, and I trusted the straightforwardness of this character who seemed to have stepped straight out of the '50s.
However, when it came to decorum, the man still had some way to go...
Indeed, as I was helping Jenny to put on her pants, propriety would have dictated that he should have slipped away, or at least turned around so that she wouldn't find herself in her knickers in front of him, but he did not. He didn't miss a minute of the blue-jean "reassembly" and seemed to enjoy it.

I don't know whether this ointment was really very effective or whether Jenny was too anxious to leave the premises to worry about her ankle, but she hardly limped at all as she headed for the exit while I thanked our landlord again for his help.
"- You're welcome, young people, the pleasure was all mine!"

You bet!

wulfenus
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by wulfenus » Fri Feb 23, 2024 4:14 am

I like a good setup and Hope you continue with the tale.

1hottxcpl4fun
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by 1hottxcpl4fun » Fri Feb 23, 2024 5:55 am

Love Landlord stories!

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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Fri Feb 23, 2024 7:02 am

The first few weeks passed like a dream.
Jenny was delighted with our apartment and had fallen in love with the neighborhood.
She took great pleasure in furnishing and decorating the apartment to her own taste.

We weren't rolling in dough, but between salvaging old family furniture and rummaging through flea markets, she had managed to give our little nest an undeniable cachet, a harmonious compromise between modernity, cozy comfort and vintage decor.
It was a place that felt like her, and since she was gorgeous, it was just right for me.

After a tiring day at work, I'd love to come home and find her curled up on the old sofa, revising her lessons.
She'd greet me with a radiant smile, and I'd lean over and kiss her passionately.
Often, this welcome embrace would quickly degenerate into a fiery embrace during which clothes and lessons would waltz merrily by.

Living on the top floor of a building has both an advantage and a disadvantage: as the heat rises, in winter you're comfortably warmed by your downstairs neighbors. On the other hand, under the rafters, in summer, you're burning.
From my point of view, however, these were two advantages. In both winter and summer, Jennifer would wander around the apartment wearing nothing more than panties and a T-shirt of varying length, under which she could show off her arrogant little breasts.
And that, of course, was all it took to satisfy my epicurean side and arouse my naughty desires...
In the end, we were just a beautiful young couple who loved each other.

So it wasn't unusual for our little apartment to resound with the most explicit cries and moans.
We thought the walls were well-insulated because we never heard any noise from the neighbors; we just hoped the reverse was true.
In any case, no one ever complained to the owner.

We continued to come across him on a regular basis.
Fortunately, he didn't spend his time lurking in the hallway or stairwell, but we did see him there quite often.
In fact, it seemed that his "going out times" coincided more often with my fiancée's than mine. But it wasn't noticeable enough to bother either of us.

Mr Delange, on the other hand, made it a point - and no doubt a pleasure - to make his ritual rounds himself, every last day of the month, to collect his rent payments in exchange for carefully-written receipts.
Invariably, we heard the bell ring at 8 p.m. and knew it was time for the "chore".
Mr. Delange wasn't unpleasant, but even months after we'd moved in, we still felt rather uncomfortable in his presence. In fact, despite his paternalistic air, he still intimidated us.

He took advantage of his rounds to have a chat with his tenants, and as we were the last in both order of arrival and order of floors, he always ended up with us and didn't seem in any particular hurry to leave.
At this hour, I felt obliged to offer him a small glass of alcohol, which he never refused.
And since it wasn't the first one he'd accepted since he'd started his ascent from the 1st floor on the right, it wasn't unusual for me to catch him glancing at my sweetheart's curves while we chatted.
At the same time, I wasn't surprised: deep down, I suspected that it was those curves that had tipped the scales in our favor when it came to choosing new tenants.
So, as Mr Delange was always courteous to Jennifer, I didn't take offence at this understandable "return on investment"; I was even amused.
But that didn't stop me from being impressed by the man's stature and presence.

So it was only after nine months of installation that, on the occasion of his monthly visit, I finally dared to submit to him the first request that was close to our hearts: the intercom issue.

The only problem was that it was Methuselah old and didn't work properly.
"You understand, Mr. Delange, it's not that we get a lot of visitors, but when you have to go up and down five flights of stairs because the front door opener isn't working, it's pretty annoying. And the worse it gets, the worse it gets."
"- Hmm-hmm" he said thoughtfully "It must be at your level because the other tenants haven't reported any such malfunctions to me."
" - Maybe. In any case, it would be great if you could remedy this. Do you think it could be done quickly?"
Still pensive, he didn't answer immediately, his eyes vaguely directed at Jennifer who was busying herself in the kitchen area.
"- With summer coming back, it's a shame Mademoiselle Gallais isn't wearing short skirts like she used to last year... With such lovely legs... yes, it's a real shame."
I had to look at him in bewilderment.
Not only had he failed to answer my question, but his completely irrelevant comment made me wonder if the old man was suffering from a sudden and incongruous bout of senility.
Okay, I'd long since figured out that the old man had a thing for my fiancée's legs, and that he delighted in the sight of her climbing the stairs in front of him, but he'd never been so explicit, and frankly, I wondered what was going on with him.

Then it hit me. Far from being senile, the man had fully answered my question.

Later that evening, Jenny asked me:
"By the way, darling, did you tell Mr. Delange about the intercom?
"Uh, yes, I told him about it.
" - And what did he say? "
" - He said that with legs like yours, you should wear mini-skirts more often. "
" - What?! "
"He said that with the return of the warm weather, it's a shame you don't wear your mini-skirts like you did last year. "
"But that's nonsense! That's got nothing to do with it!"
" - Yes, that's what I thought at first too. I even thought he was starting to have his wires touch... Until I realized: It's a deal in fact: You dress shorter and he does what's necessary."
She looked at me incredulously:
"- Do you really think so?"
"- Well, to be sure, the easiest thing is to try and see. It costs nothing."


Two weeks later, after an assiduous wearing of mini-skirts by my darling, our intercom was repaired.

1hottxcpl4fun
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by 1hottxcpl4fun » Fri Feb 23, 2024 9:19 am

Bravo!
Excellent read!

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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Sat Feb 24, 2024 1:02 am

I'm a technical sales representative for a large company that produces air-conditioning ducts. It's highly technical and completely abstruse for the uninitiated.

As a general rule, my salary consists of a fixed salary based on the minimum wage and commissions calculated on the basis of sales achieved, ensuring a relatively comfortable level of income.
Unfortunately, with the onset of the recession and the sharp drop in our orders, commissions have dwindled to a trickle over the months.
With Jennifer starting her PhD and still with no income, we looked forward with some trepidation to a lean period that we hoped would be as short as possible.
These days, two people living on just over a minimum wage in Paris is a real challenge.
True, the rent had been reduced from the original asking price, but it still represented a significant proportion of our income and was putting a merciless strain on our monthly budget, so much so that our bank account was overdrawn earlier and earlier in the month.
However, despite these temporary difficulties, we refused to ask our parents for help.
It was a question of pride: against their advice, we had insisted on emancipating ourselves and becoming independent young people, and there was no way we were going to prove them right and admit failure by asking them for a financial boost.

Alas, at the end of November, with the monthly rent due and my paycheck about to go into the red, I decided to take the plunge:
One evening, I rang Mr Delange's doorbell and summed up our financial woes.
I explained to him that the beginning of the year, traditionally more buoyant, would undoubtedly enable me to make a rapid return to better fortunes, and that it would be very kind of him to agree to a small, but very temporary, deferral of his rent until the worst of the storm had passed.
Honestly, I wasn't particularly confident.
Even if the man didn't seem to be in need, the zeal and diligence he put into getting paid every month made me think he was the "close to his money" type, and I feared that this request would in fact have the opposite effect to that intended: that he would regret having accepted the application of these penniless young people in hindsight, and that he would do everything in his power to evict us as quickly as possible.
Despite my concerns, he showed no particular irritation:
"- Look, today it's a bit late to discuss it, but we can look into it tomorrow. What time can you get away tomorrow?"
It was bad timing. I had an important meeting scheduled for the following day, but negotiating was out of the question.
"- I finish around 6:30, so I could be there around 7."
"Well, that's perfect! Why don't you meet me for a drink tomorrow at 7 p.m. and we'll talk things over?


As I slowly made my way back up the stairs, I was thinking to myself.
Although there had been no mention of Jennifer's presence at our next meeting, it went without saying that it would be preferable, even essential.
In the light of the exchanges we'd had with our landlord up to that point, and particularly since our request to repair the intercom, it seemed obvious to me that obtaining this payment extension would depend directly on my darling's attire and the percentage of bare skin she'd leave in view of the old pig.

When I told her about my interview with Mr. Delange, Jenny quickly came to the same conclusions as I had.
She did, however, have some objections:
"- And it doesn't bother you too much to agree to expose your girlfriend's charms in order to obtain financial favors?"
"- Look, darling, if we had another solution that simple, I'd jump on it right away, but as it is, apart from asking our parents, we don't have one. And since we've already eliminated that option, I don't see any other... After all, you have to keep things in perspective: I'm not asking you to sleep with him, I'm just asking you to make sure that he can stare as much as he likes and that he's in the best frame of mind to agree to give us a little temporary help. I don't see anything wrong with that.
Besides, he doesn't seem very demanding: Up until now, your lovely gams have enabled us to get this superb apartment and a brand-new intercom, so we'll just have to show them to him for a sufficiently long time to win him over again, and off we go! With a little drink on top of that, we'll be done!"

***
I'd played the proud man to Jennifer, but I wasn't really up to it when I got home from work that night.
I'd presented it to her as a game, a fool's game, but what we were playing was quite simply the survival of our financial independence.
If we failed tonight, if Delange refused the deadline, we'd be forced to turn to our parents for help, and what went with it: living off them and according to their rules.
We hadn't fought like hell for two years to get back to square one, for heaven's sake!
No wonder I might have seemed nervous to the other passengers on my subway train.

At least I wasn't late. Well, almost, because my watch showed 7.03pm when I got to the foot of the building.
Knowing the man's punctuality, he must already have reached our floor. A glance at the ground-floor windows confirmed that there was no light in his apartment.

It was breathless and sweaty after climbing five flights of stairs four at a time that I entered our home. Just enough time to get rid of my coat and briefcase in the small entrance hall, I arrived in the living room and said, as naturally as possible, "Hello darlll... !"
I was stunned and speechless.
It wasn't so much what Jenny was wearing that stopped me in my tracks - no, as I've already said, she liked to wear cool clothes when she was alone in the apartment - but it was precisely that she wasn't alone: in the armchair opposite her sat a Mr Delange, looking completely satisfied.
And with good reason: apart from a wife-beater so slim and tight that it left little to the imagination as to the shape and appearance of her bare breasts underneath, Jenny, with no make-up, was wearing nothing but a simple pair of white panties!
It took me a good minute to recover from my astonishment.
And in that minute, I had time to ask myself a thousand questions: OK, I'd told her to dress sexy and go all out, but not to that extent. Had she misunderstood me? Had she been overzealous?
Or had she resented having to play the bait, and this provocative outfit was only meant to underline the shamelessness of my strategy?
I could already see her saying: "Did you want me to look sexy? There you go! Are you happy?"
She sure was sexy! Under normal circumstances, I'd have jumped right on her, but now, discovering her so naked, so vulnerable in the presence of our landlord, this man with such an imposing build and personality, I found myself feeling a masterful erection invade my pants.

Yet, provocative as her attire was, and even though she'd been in her knickers in front of our landlord during the move and the sprain episode, Jennifer didn't really seem at ease.
After a cryptic good evening, she tended to avoid my gaze, and when I finally moved to place a kiss on her lips, she ducked and turned her cheek to me.
No doubt she wanted to avoid anything too intimate in front of our creditor.

Unlike my fiancée, he seemed perfectly at ease sitting in our armchair.
After shaking my hand and beckoning me to sit down, like a master of the house, he addressed Jenny:
"- Mademoiselle Gallais, I think your companion could do with a little something to drink, and I could do with another glass..."
That's when I noticed the two empty glasses on the coffee table... But how long had they been there!

Like an old pervert, I saw him greedily following my fiancée as she went off to the kitchen.
In his defense, I had to admit that the little ass molded in white cotton was most appetizing.

After serving us, Jenny settled back on the sofa in her favorite position: her two legs folded together, both feet tucked under her bottom.
Delange had been watching her the whole time.

With a touch of relief, I noted that she hadn't dared to wiggle in front of him. On the contrary, with her rosy cheeks, she looked rather borrowed and seemed to be trying to hide her charms from our visitor, which, of course, was in vain.

With glass in hand, he struck up a perfectly harmless conversation with me, asking how my job was going, if we'd noticed the new building site in the neighborhood, and so on.
I took advantage of the allusion to my job to slip in some information about our financial difficulties, but didn't seem at all interested. He quickly changed the subject and didn't come back.

I was beginning to wonder how I was going to bring up the issue of rent arrears, the main reason why our landlord was staying with us that evening, when he looked at his watch and exclaimed that he'd taken up far too much of our time and had to get back to his place, as he didn't want to miss the start of a movie he absolutely had to see.

I watched helplessly as he took his leave, kissing Jennifer's hand in an academic manner and shaking my hand with a manly grip.
I told myself it was all over. He'd turned a deaf ear and we were doomed.

But, like a Lieutenant Colombo suddenly remembering a last-minute detail, he turned and slipped me:
"By the way, don't worry about the rent. I know what it's like when you're starting out in life, sometimes it's a bit difficult to make ends meet. Take your time, one month, two months, three if necessary, I'm not that far behind. You'll pay me when things get better."
And before I had time to react, he was already on the stairs. I didn't even say thank you.

As I closed the door, I gave jenny a broad smile: "Yes!!!"
With open arms, I invited her to snuggle up to me. She didn't hesitate.
Relieved and moved, I breathed in her perfume as I stroked her hair.

"- Frankly, I wondered what had bitten you to receive him dressed like that, but in the end, I have to admit it was the right tactic ... A daring but terribly effective tactic, bravo!"

She disengaged herself from my embrace and looked at me with an odd mixture of annoyance and embarrassment:
"But it wasn't intentional at all! It's just that he arrived half an hour early. When the doorbell rang, I was still cleaning the apartment and was about to go to the shower; I didn't pay any attention, I went to open the door thinking it was you and that you'd forgotten your keys; I didn't even check through the peephole. You can imagine my astonishment when I saw it was him...
I didn't understand a thing, I thought you'd made a mistake in the time you'd given me... But I wasn't going to tell him to come back later, that's not done... So I let him in and told him I was going to change, but he insisted that I stay like that, that it was fine, that I shouldn't worry about him... So I didn't dare to insist, I suspected he was going to look a lot, but I also remembered that this was what you were hoping for so that he'd agree to give us a delay, so... there you go. " she said, shrugging her shoulders in fatality.
Stunned, I didn't react immediately.
All I'd noticed was that Delange had spent more than half an hour alone with my fiancée, practically naked in front of him. Add to that the hour or so after I'd arrived, and he'd had an hour and a half of Jennifer in little clothes. I could understand his air of satisfaction and his great "indulgence": he'd had his fill and had stored up enough images to feed a bunch of salacious dreams!
And, as I got to know him better and better, it was obvious that this early arrival was not due to an error or oversight on his part, but rather to a deliberate strategy.
We thought we were fooling him, but it was he who had led the way!

"But what have you been talking about all this time?"

Jenny stammered: "Well... just stuff... nothing specific... like earlier."
As she said this, I thought she looked strange again, evasive.
Well, now was not the time to go looking for lice in her head.
We had what we wanted, and it was largely thanks to her.
I beckoned her back to curl up against me.

As I hugged her slender body to mine, I couldn't help thinking about what had happened, seeing the old man ogling my girlfriend's long bare legs, leering at her arrogant little breasts peeking out from under the wifebeater, drooling over her little ass....

Had he managed to see even more? Had he caught a detailed glimpse of her little apricot under the thin fabric of her panties?
I didn't know, but the mere idea brought back an erection that had only temporarily left me, and my hands slipped naturally to my love's waist...
Just as my right hand was about to grab a buttock of her magnificent little posterior, my right was bold enough to venture under the elastic of her underwear... After passing quickly over the softness of a silky pubis, my fingers discovered a particularly remarkable wetness, especially in the absence of any physical stimulation...

Bewildered, I looked down at her and sought her gaze:
I said, "Hey! You seem to get a kick out of strutting around half-naked in front of a dirty old man!" I said with a half-smile.

For all answer, she grabbed my hard-on through my pants:
"Look at you! It seems to have quite an effect on you to see me strutting around half-naked in front of a dirty old man!"
I returned her frank smile and to seal the end of this pseudo-discord, I leaned towards her intending to offer her a fiery kiss... but my lips met only emptiness: Jenny had fallen to my knees and before I had time to understand what was happening to me, she had my sex in her mouth.

By the time I met Jennifer, she was no longer a virgin, but had only known one man before me. As for me, my few adventures didn't give me much more experience.
Until then, she'd never shown any real interest in blow jobs. Although she did it relatively often, it was clear that it was more to please me than out of any real desire; she carried out her task conscientiously, but without zeal or initiative. For example, she never swallowed. No doubt I had been a bad teacher; refusing to impose anything on her, I convinced myself that she didn't really like it.
This time, however, she seemed to be working with a new zest. Instead of working mechanically on my member, as usual, she caressed it, weighed it, examined it as if she were discovering it for the first time, kissed it greedily, licked it long and languidly, gobbled it, sucked it with a new energy...
For the first time, I had the impression that beyond my desire, she was savoring the moment.

Obviously, already excited by the start of the evening, the main consequence of this realization was to increase my pleasure tenfold, and I felt the orgasmic wave arrive twice as fast as usual.
I warned my darling of my eminent explosion so that she could initiate her withdrawal but, to my astonishment, she persevered and, for the first time, it was into her mouth that I released my centilitres of bliss as a roar of satisfaction escaped from my throat.

She waited for my last spasm to end and swallowed without the slightest grimace.

It was going to be a hot night!

wulfenus
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by wulfenus » Sat Feb 24, 2024 3:42 am

1hottxcpl4fun wrote:
Fri Feb 23, 2024 5:55 am
Love Landlord stories!
Indeed!

Frenchie
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Sun Feb 25, 2024 6:40 am

By the end of March, sales had still not taken off. We were four monthly payments behind.

While the extension granted by Mr Delange had been a breath of fresh air and enabled us to cover the bank overdraft, my meagre salary was barely enough for our basic needs and, without indulging in the slightest extravagance, we couldn't put a penny aside to hope to repay our debt.
It was beginning to wear on us.

Our relationship had improved after the kindly visit from our landlord, but as the weeks went by and we saw no improvement on the horizon, we became depressed and the mood in the apartment deteriorated.
I'd come home irritated and tired from a sterile, stressful job, and despite all her good will, Jennifer sometimes found it hard to cheer me up.
Our union's finances rested entirely on my shoulders, and the weight of this responsibility was beginning to sap my morale.
Still, I couldn't see myself asking Jenny to take a job. She already had a lot on her plate with her studies and I didn't want her to jeopardize her chances of success.

One Friday evening, as I was coming home after a particularly tiring day, Mr Delange intercepted me at the foot of the stairs.
It was an encounter I'd been dreading more and more for the past few weeks, and every time I crossed the threshold of the building, I clenched my buttocks hoping not to see the owner.

"Mr. Wercher! It's you I was hoping to see. Are you and Mademoiselle Gallais free tomorrow evening? I'd like to invite you both for an aperitif and we could talk about a couple of things..."
We had no plans, and even if we had, we'd be free. The invitation had the air of a summons and it wouldn't be good manners to shirk it.
"- Yes, of course, with pleasure!" I replied hypocritically.
"Well, it's agreed: we'll say 7.30 tomorrow at my place.

I climbed the stairs with a heavy heart. The steps had never seemed so high.
Even though he hadn't hinted at it, I knew very well why he wanted to see us: he was running out of patience and wanted his money back.
We were in trouble!
***

"How do I dress? This time, even on purpose, I'm not going to be able to pretend I wasn't ready yet since we're the ones going to his place."
I gave her a comforting smile, "As you wish, darling, I trust you to find the perfect compromise between naturalness and sex appeal."
" - OK!"

I tried to put on a brave face, but I wasn't fooled. This time, Jennifer's outfit wasn't going to be enough, even if it looked great. Delange was going to give us an ultimatum and we were going to be out on the street because we couldn't honor it. What a pain in the ass!

wulfenus
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by wulfenus » Sun Feb 25, 2024 10:21 am

Perhaps Jen’s anticipation is building as ours is?

Uscgamecoc91
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Uscgamecoc91 » Sun Feb 25, 2024 12:25 pm

HOPING for the next chapter!!

Frenchie
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Mon Feb 26, 2024 7:27 am

In the 18 months we'd been in the building, it was only the third time we'd entered our landlord's apartment. The first time was the day of the first visit, and the second was the day of the move, when Jenny had been taken in by Mr. Delange after spraining her ankle.
For a year and a half, nothing seemed to have changed. It still felt like entering a private museum: the walls were still covered with paintings and the antique furniture laden with collectibles whose value I didn't dare imagine.

Dejected, I bitterly realized that just one of these trinkets could probably pay our rent for a whole year!
The master of the house preceded us into the living room, which we already knew, and seated us on the old sofa we'd sat on the first time.

As he poured us the booze he'd been extolling, I thought back to our first visit and the audacity we'd shown to win the day.
Unlike that first meeting, this time Jennifer had deliberately opted for a low-cut top and an outrageously short skirt that revealed an almost indecent amount of her pretty, tapering legs.

As our host had, once again, strategically positioned himself in the armchair opposite, and the softness of the sofa we were sinking into further pushed the skirt up my companion's thighs, there was no doubt that the slightest crossing/uncrossing of her legs would offer her opposite number the most unobstructed view of the underwear she was wearing underneath.
Alas, I still doubted it would be enough.
But at least we wouldn't be sorry we hadn't done everything we could, and if we could get an extension, that would be good enough.
In fact, it didn't take long for the wily old man to spot my darling's particularly diligent footwork, and his sights were soon riveted on the narrow space between the two pale thighs topped by a thin strip of fabric.
Although still doubtful, I inwardly praised her dedication and perseverance.

With his eyes busy but his mind still alert, Mr. Delange, as usual, began to talk to us about anything and everything, as if he'd invited us here out of pure courtesy, to talk about the rain and the fine weather, as if we didn't know exactly why we were there.

It took him a long time to put the problem of unpaid rent at the heart of the discussion. It was as if he took a malicious pleasure in making us stew in our own juices.

At last, however, he got down to business:
"You told me you were having temporary difficulties that would soon be resolved, but I have to admit that this doesn't seem to be the case... You've been defaulting on your rent for four months now, and you can understand why I'm worried. Philanthropy isn't exactly my strong suit, and I'm wondering whether I'll ever get my money back... Especially as you're not the only one of my tenants with financial problems, and I don't want this to get out and spread... Do you follow me?"

I had already prepared my arguments:
"Don't worry, Mr Delange, we haven't told anyone about your generous patience, and we guarantee that it won't get out. As for our financial difficulties, I'm happy to report that the outlook for the second quarter and especially the second half of the year is much better, and I'm sure that everything will be back to normal very soon..."
He dismissed my misleading argument with a wave of his hand:
"You'll understand, Mr. Wercher, that at this point, I can no longer be satisfied with vague promises, especially as I have a few friends in the upper echelons of the financial world who are far, far from sharing your fresh optimism, albeit totally utopian: the crisis is here and now. The market is at a standstill and it's going to be a long time before it picks up again."

I didn't reply. He was right about everything. My last stand had gone "pfuiitt".
Silently, I awaited his verdict.
A mute witness to our conversation, Jennifer had also realized that it was over. She no longer played with her pretty pair of scissors.

"However, I'm not a selfish monster either, and frankly, I don't see myself throwing you and your friend out of the house with such... convincing arguments". Delange replied with a gesture in Jenny's direction.
For a brief moment, I had the impression that his index finger had pointed directly at my girlfriend's crotch. But at that moment, my mind was solely focused on the glimmer of hope he'd just instilled... So maybe it wasn't over...
"- I have indeed thought of a new arrangement that could be profitable to both you and me..."

He paused again. Once again, it seemed as if he was having fun prolonging the suspense, while I was bubbling over to find out what it was all about.
With a sweeping gesture, he pointed to the room we were in:
"You're no doubt aware of my immoderate taste for old things, a passion which has led me to amass here a whole heap of antiques of... unequal value, you might say.
Unfortunately, these old things quickly turn out to be formidable dust nests, whereas I've long been paradoxically allergic to dust... which is why I'm obliged to call in outside help to meticulously clean the apartment, a relatively thankless task devolved to my faithful Marie-Jeanne for more than three decades now... It so happens that, with advancing age and failing eyesight, dear Marie-Jeanne has been losing her effectiveness of late... Of course, I could never blame her, but since she has long since reached the age of a well-deserved retirement, I thought it might be time for her to hand over the reins... and that's when I thought of you and your little worries... In fact, every time I've been to your place, I've noticed that, for young people, you keep your apartment surprisingly clean, even gleaming, which, by the way, the landlord I am is very grateful for, and I thought it would be a good idea to put this talent to good use... What I'm proposing is to pay your rent in hours of cleaning that Mademoiselle Gallais would come and do for me. What do you think?"

Totally taken aback by this proposal, which I hadn't expected at all, I remained silent.
Jenny didn't react either.

"What do you think? Mr Delange repeated.
"- Well, I mean... it's a bit of an unexpected proposal..." I stammered at last "We'll have to discuss it amongst ourselves, Jennifer has her classes, her exams..."
"- Oh, of course we can work out the hours according to Mademoiselle Gallais's availability and, in any case, it would only be for one or two hours, two days a week, nothing more."
"- In full payment of the rent?"
" - Absolutely!"
Even though I was still baffled by the ad, I quickly did the mental math: at two to four hours a week, multiplied by four to five weeks a month, compared to the price of rent, this represented a staggering hourly rate. It was more than a bargain, it was a godsend!
I glanced questioningly at Jenny, but she seemed no less confused: a slight shrug of her shoulders told me she didn't really have an opinion on the matter and left the decision up to me.

Cutting short our thoughts, Mr. Delange stood up, indicating the end of our visit:
"I'll give you a few days to give me your answer and possibly find an alternative solution..." He said as he led us off. He said as he escorted us to the door of his apartment.

I knew the alternatives as well as he did, and there weren't dozens of them: the rent or the door... nothing else.

Jennifer had already shaken hands with Mr Delange and was on her way up the stairs. I was about to take my leave of our landlord when he held me back for one last clarification, which I knew he was now accustomed to:
"Ah, also, Mr. Wercher, I forgot: in order to provide you with food for thought, and so that you can make your decision in full knowledge of the facts, I'd like to add a small condition to our arrangement... "
"- Yes?" I asked, vaguely anxious.
"If you decide to respond favorably to my proposal and your charming lady comes to clean my house, I'd like her to wear outfits similar to those she wore today... Good evening Mr. Wercher."
And he closed the door, leaving me stunned.
"- Are you coming, darling?" shouted Jenny from upstairs.

**

" - What do you think? "
" - I think we don't really have a choice... Financially, it's a pretty good deal because our rent is worth a lot more than three or four hours of cleaning a week, now... I don't want to force you to play the maid for some old rich guy either, I know you've got other ambitions in life than that."
Jennifer nodded thoughtfully.

We were both sitting on our sofa, trying to debrief this surprising evening.
"- Playing the maid doesn't bother me that much. I know it's temporary, just until you get back to a normal level of remuneration, and then, at least, I can tell myself that I'll finally be able to make an active contribution to our budget, since I've been telling you for so long that it bothers me to live off you. I know you love me, we love each other and so on, but at least now, I'll be doing my share and I'll feel better. Afterwards..."
"- Yes?"
" - What bothers me a little more is him... you know him... you know what he's like... We both know that it's not just my talents as a house fairy that motivate him... " She said in an embarrassed tone.

I knew exactly what she meant. And yet! She hadn't heard Delange's last demand!
"- I know, my love, that's why I'll never force you. If you don't feel like it, don't do it. We'll work it out another way."
She sighed:
"You know there's no other way... I think I can live with it, but you're not going to mind leaving your girlfriend alone with that old pervert, are you?
"Oh, don't exaggerate! He's not a pervert, just an old man enjoying his old age and taking advantage of what nature has to offer. There's nothing really wrong with that.
Besides, I'm pretty sure he can't do much else than stare, poor guy, his three-piece must only be used for pissing, so tell yourself that it's almost a good action for you to let him gaze at your beautiful legs."

She smiles shyly.
"- You're probably right... he must fantasize about young chambermaids in short dresses."
" - You don't know what you're talking about!"
" - What do you mean? "
"Well, when you were already walking up the stairs, he insisted on specifying a condition to our arrangement, as he calls it. Dito, he wants you to clean the house in an outfit similar to the one you're wearing today!"
"- What!"
"- Yes, you heard me right: you'll have to clean in the same outfit." I confirmed amused.

Just as I thought this announcement would make her laugh, I saw her turn pale instead:
"Are you sure? No way." she said in a strangled voice.
"Come on, don't worry, it's nothing catastrophic. He probably liked the "length" of your skirt and just wanted to make sure you kept wearing short skirts when you went to work for him, that's all. We know he's a big oggler, but he's not mean."
"- But no, you don't understand..." she insisted plaintively.
" - What? What don't I understand?" I asked, barely concerned.
" - It's that... I... To... To put all our chances on our side... To hope for an extension... I... you understand, I didn't tell you... I didn't want to make you nervous... "
"- Jenny! I don't understand a word you're saying! What's wrong?!"
"- I had... I didn't wear any panties!"

Cobra1000
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Cobra1000 » Tue Feb 27, 2024 3:28 am

Keep going! You certainly have my attention. Well done.

1hottxcpl4fun
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by 1hottxcpl4fun » Tue Feb 27, 2024 4:51 am

So I sort of knew where this was going...Housekeeping or Massage. I was leaning more on the massage angle, but the "no panties" angle was a good twist. Did you ever think that you would be a cuck by another man that has power over you and your GF?

wulfenus
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by wulfenus » Tue Feb 27, 2024 6:41 am

good characters and events moving along in an exciting manner !

eater
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by eater » Tue Feb 27, 2024 7:39 am

love the story. can't wait to read about her first day at "work".

Frenchie
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Tue Feb 27, 2024 8:14 am

Naturally, the very next day we accepted Mr Delange's proposal.

However, I must admit that Jennifer's admission that she hadn't worn any underwear during our visit had disturbed me a little. Quite a lot, in fact.

Even though, in the aftermath, knowing that my darling had played a much more daring game than I'd anticipated without warning, and that our host had been able to cast a lecherous eye over her fully-exposed little blonde fanny, had left my senses reeling and, it has to be said, also a little excited, at first I wondered, like Jenny, whether she hadn't pushed the limit a little too far and burned herself at her own game: When he made his last request, had Delange meant to imply that he wanted my darling to come and clean his house bare-assed?

At least, that's what Jennifer thought.

For my part, even though I'd found this little game of showing off to get a few privileges rather funny and exciting up to now, I wasn't ready to let my partner go and do a kind of almost total striptease in exchange for paying the rent. In my opinion, this was getting too close to a rather sleazy and totally illegal trade in charms.

I was relieved, however, when Mr Delange handed us a draft employment contract in due and proper form, which included all the obligatory clauses (hours, remuneration, trial period, paid vacations...) but made no mention of the required dress code.

Without these details, he could never demand anything of Jennifer, not even that she wear skirts instead of pants.
Relieved, I quickly realized that Mr. Delange had in fact wanted to show us that, once again, he wasn't fooled by our little game and that he could outsmart us, but that he had never wanted to violate my fiancée's modesty.
In the end, it was more like the character.

After a few adjustments, Jennifer signed her contract. It provided for her to work at Mr. Delange's on Tuesdays from 8:30 to 10 a.m. and on Fridays from 5 to 7 p.m..

Her duties would include tidying and dusting furniture and paintings, as well as maintaining the floors and sanitary facilities, but it was clearly stipulated that she was not to do any cooking, washing-up or laundry.
The contract also specified that in return for these three and a half hours a week, the rent would be considered paid in full.

When I asked what was to become of the four months' arrears, Mr. Delange replied that he would occasionally ask Jennifer to work a few extra hours when he had guests, and that this would pay off the monthly arrears.

All was well.

***
"- Is this skirt with this T-shirt okay?"
" - Yes, it's fine. "
" - Panties then. "
" - Of course panties! Look, he hasn't said anything since the other night and he didn't put anything in the contract. I'm telling you: it was just to make us screw around! It worked and it's still working, as far as I can see.
But this skirt is longer than the other one and this T-shirt is just right, neither too loose nor too tight. It gives her plenty of room to enjoy your lovely curves without embarrassing you."

It was the first Tuesday, the first day of her first job, and Jenny was nervous, even if it was just dusting an old man's apartment.
I tried to reassure her as much as I could: "- Anyway, I'm willing to bet that, true to form, he'll be checking out discreetly, so you might not even notice."
"- Discreetly, you say! Generally speaking, guys aren't very good at being discreet in these cases... Whether it's a young or an old guy, it's easy to see where he's squinting."
"- Well, let him squint while you do your job and everything will be fine."

8 h 30. Leaving at the same time as her, I accompanied her to Mr. Delange's door.

We kissed lovingly and I left her as she rang the doorbell.

Frenchie
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Wed Feb 28, 2024 7:25 am

So busy with the day's tasks, I didn't have much time to think about my darling during my first hour at work.

However, around 10.45 a.m., I found time to give her a quick call to see how things were going.

The phone rang at least six times before she picked up.

"Well! I thought nobody was home. Did you just get in?"
" - No-no. I was in the shower."
" - In the shower? But you took one just before you left!
" - Well, cleaning is messy and makes you sweat. "
" - Yes, that's true, excuse me... and apart from that, how did it go? "
" - Well... yes. "
" - You don't sound very enthusiastic. "
" - Yeah, it's been okay, but... it's just housework... nothing to write home about. "
" - Yes, of course. And Delange?"
" - Equal to himself. "
" - Did he watch? "
" - A little, yes. "
" - Only a little? "
" - A little more than a little. "
" - And then, did he make a remark about the panties? "
" - Uh... No-no, he didn't mind... "
" - Well, you see. I told you so!"

I would have asked her for more details, but I sensed that she was reluctant to confide in me, holding back, almost annoyed by my questions. Winning for the first time in her life didn't seem to fill her with joy. At the same time, it wasn't what she'd dreamed of as her first job either.
So I packed up my questions and wished her a good day before diving back into my files.

In the evening, she was no more loquacious and I didn't insist either.

***

The following Friday, she was still at the landlord's when I got home around 6:30 pm.

As I passed his apartment, I listened and heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner in the distance.
When she came back in, a good half-hour later, she said " Hello darling " from the hallway and ran straight to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I smiled when I heard the sound of the shower: my little darling was a real neat freak; as I entered the bathroom, I was hardly surprised to see that she had had time to start a laundry program.
Mr. Delange had been right: he couldn't have found a more zealous employee!

I waited for her to come out of the shower, towel in hand, ready to greet her with the scent of her chamomile shampoo and lavender soap.

But when she opened the shower curtain, I waited a brief moment before handing her the towel. Just long enough to admire her gorgeous wet body: her hair dripping with the pressure of her two hands wringing it out, her frail shoulders, her skinny little arms draped over her head, her little breasts perched high on her chest by the position of her arms, her taut nipples sprinkled with droplets triggering in me an irrepressible urge to come and lick them, her flat belly and perfect navel, her pubis whose fine blonde fuzz held back just a few more drops... and her legs... ah, her legs!

"- Hey! Are you planning to hand me that towel or is it just to make me smooch while I dry on the spot?!"

And that smile... I loved that mischievous smile!

***

As is often the case on Friday evenings, we treated ourselves to a glass of white wine to celebrate the end of the week. Sitting quietly together on the sofa, it was an opportunity to chat, debrief the past week and plan what we were going to do with our weekend.

"- So, my darling, how did that second intervention at Delange's go?"
" - Well... just like the first. "
" - And the owner, not too present? "
" - No-no, it's fine... "
" - What's he got you doing? "
"Oh, nothing but the usual: vacuuming everywhere, running a feather duster over the furniture, knick-knacks, paintings... It's incredible what this guy could have piled up in his lifetime! What you've seen is only a small part of it: his apartment is huge, there are three guest rooms and they're all full of antiques!"
"- And his bedroom, did you see it?"
" - Well... yes... why?" she asked, suddenly defensive.
"Well, to find out. To find out if you had to pick up his dirty underpants."
She smiled: "No, that's unlikely: her room is very tidy. I even thought that was rare for a single man."
" - Ah, because you've visited a lot of single men's rooms? "
" - Smart ass!" She said, sending me a falsely vindictive slap.

I tried to ask her some more questions, but once again she didn't seem to want to expand on her activity.
I was a little frustrated by this, as I would have liked to know the details: where and how the man managed to steal intimate glimpses of my darling's body, what he had been able to see under the dress or in its indentations.
Of course, I was well aware that this exacerbated curiosity was a little unhealthy in my partner's eyes, and I didn't particularly want her to realize how disturbing this situation was for me.
So I resolved to keep my questions to myself and glean information when she gave it to me.

In any case, it didn't stop us from making love with a rare intensity that evening.
Normally, our foreplay often begins with a long cunnilingus to bring my partner to a level of arousal where she won't suffer too much from my relative eagerness.
But then, as soon as I had finished suckling her erect breasts, she didn't let me get any lower. She drew me against her and I felt an impatient hand guide my stinger towards her intimate lair, which it discovered surprisingly lubricated.
She immediately moaned with pleasure...
Perhaps, without admitting it to herself, she'd been a little titillated by wiggling around in her short dress under the libidinous gaze of her owner, for she showed a definite ardor in welcoming my thrusts, her hands clutching my shoulders.
As for me, I'm not usually a sex marathoner, but between my licentious thoughts of the evening and my darling's shouts of encouragement, I couldn't resist for long before I let out a loud moan of contentment.
Jenny didn't seem to mind.

What's more, she knew that the second round was just around the corner...

Frenchie
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Wed Feb 28, 2024 7:26 am

Vacation time...

See you in two weeks !

wulfenus
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by wulfenus » Wed Feb 28, 2024 8:16 am

Frenchie wrote:
Wed Feb 28, 2024 7:26 am
Vacation time...

See you in two weeks !
Very funny!

eater
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by eater » Wed Feb 28, 2024 2:37 pm

2 weeks? have fun. love your story.

Johng1953
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Johng1953 » Fri Mar 08, 2024 11:04 pm

Great story and really very good English. I can't wait for you to get back

Frenchie
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Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Mon Mar 11, 2024 4:00 am

"Honey, explain to me why you're taking a shower before cleaning Delange's when you know you'll be taking another one right after.
"Hey, you don't think I'm going to get out of bed and go to work without a shower, do you? Of course, from your guy's point of view, there's no point, but that's how I feel. Mister David be damned. And if Mister David's worried about his water bill going through the roof, all he has to do is find me a less messy job."

I smiled. I loved teasing her.

Jen had been working for the owner for a few weeks now, and a sort of routine had settled in: every Tuesday morning, I'd walk her up to Mr. Delange's door and give her a last kiss as she rang the bell, and on Fridays, knowing that she wouldn't be available until 7 p.m., I'd take the opportunity to work a few extra hours, much to my boss's delight.

When I got home, it wasn't unusual to find my fiancée still in the shower while the washing machine did its work.

Step by step, I got her to talk about her housework sessions. She seemed a little more at ease with it and wasn't reluctant to answer.

Even though I was careful not to be too intrusive, she must have sensed my curiosity about what was going on in the apartment downstairs and sometimes played on it. She'd tease me, for example, by telling me that Mr. Delange had stood watching her for almost half an hour while she dusted the top of a cupboard on the top step of the stepladder.

The image of the old man ogling my girlfriend's bare legs made my head spin.

Especially as I'd noticed that the skirts Jennifer wore to work were getting noticeably shorter these days.
I didn't know if it was her own doing or if it was an "order" from her boss, but knowing his tastes, I thought he was more than capable of skilfully inciting his young employee to shorten her wardrobe.

For my part, I still didn't know how to deal with it emotionally; I was always torn between guilty excitement and a natural revulsion at knowing my girl was thus exposed to this old man's concupiscence.

But at least, when I asked, Jennifer assured me that he never made any inappropriate gesture towards her.
This reassured me and confirmed my belief that the man, bathed in good manners and no doubt now impotent, was only indulging in the contemplation of beautiful images, and God knows my darling can offer beautiful scenery!

And speaking of scenery, here's one that's not bad at all: Jennifer in panties and matching bra in front of her wardrobe, thinking about her outfit for the day...
I came up from behind, stuck to her and hugged her waist ... a step backwards to throw her off balance and we both fell onto the next bed, her on top of me. She gave a little cry of surprise.
Without waiting, my fingertips slipped under the elastic of her panties to greedily cover her sumptuous Venus mount, which she had been wearing hairless for some time.
My adventurous middle finger passed delicately over her nervous button and discovered, just below, an unexpected wetness that immediately gave me ideas of lust...
With my nose in her hair, I whispered in her ear:
"We've got a good fifteen minutes here... Plenty of time for a quickie... You seem to be ahead of the game already..."
She giggled but escaped my embrace:
"No, no! There's no time yet. I've still got to choose what to wear and I won't have time to take another shower."
"- Who's talking to you about taking another shower?"
" - Oh yeah? And going to work with your babies stranded in the bottom of my panties the whole time I'm at Delange's? Thanks a lot!"
"- Hey, panty liners do exist! And who's to say that it doesn't turn me on to know that you're walking around in front of this old man with my babies soaking through your panties?
"Really? Would that turn you on?
"- Why not?" said I, bravely.
She shook her head in mock despair: "Men... they're all pigs!"
I was about to retort that she had few references to back up her assertion, but she was already turning her back on me to lock herself in the shower room and get dressed.
"You can run! Tonight you'll pay dearly ! » I shouted at her through the door.

Frenchie
Experienced
Posts: 132
Joined: Sun May 22, 2016 1:37 pm

Re: The Landlord

Unread post by Frenchie » Mon Mar 11, 2024 4:02 am

Thank you all for waiting

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