The Landlord
Re: The Landlord
A long one to begin the week...
Re: The Landlord
"Can you explain? I asked her laconically in a tone of voice where incomprehension battled with anger.
She sighed, her head still in her hands:
"- Yes, all right, I'll explain everything.... Just give me time to wake up and get in the shower... And if you'd be so kind as to make me a double cup of coffee and a couple of aspirin tablets, that'd be great because right now, I've got a tank under my skull...
I promise I'll tell you all about it later. OK?"
" - Everything? "
" - Everything, I promise. "
" - OK."
***
Jenny sat in front of me, both hands clasped around her mug of black coffee.
The shower had done her good; she looked almost presentable.
We hadn't exchanged three words since she'd gotten up.
She went to take her shower while I prepared her coffee and pills.
I couldn't think straight. Waves of incoherent thoughts and confused feelings were coming at me in a totally disordered way.
She had cheated on me, she had slept with someone else, it was now obvious. But why and under what circumstances?
I was already clinging to her future explanations like a lifeline to keep from sinking into panic.
Yet, transfixed on her mug, eyes blank, she seemed in no hurry to give me these explanations. I was going to have to motivate her:
"- Well?"
She sighed and launched forward:
"- Do you remember the day we first visited this apartment?"
" - What? What are you talking about? You promise me an explanation of what happened yesterday so you can come back in this... state and you're talking about the Greek calendar?! Are you kidding me?!"
She raised her hand to silence me, eyebrows furrowed, thumb and forefinger gripping the base of her nose as if to better concentrate and take in my virulent intervention.
"- Please, darling, let me talk. You want me to tell you everything, I will because I probably need to as much as you do. But for that to happen, you have to trust me. If you want to understand what happened last night, I'll have to start at the beginning, okay? And please don't scream, my skull feels like a pressure cooker."
"- Okay." I replied more quietly, not understanding what she was getting at.
"- So here's the thing: the day we visited the apartment, do you remember that after our interview with Mr. Delange, you stayed with the guy from the agency to sign some papers while I followed our future owner who offered to show me the central courtyard?"
"- Yes, I remember." I said, intrigued.
"- He led me through the courtyard door, discreetly guiding me with a hand behind my back, in his always elegant way... only, once in the courtyard, his hand didn't go. It slid gently to land on my hip, where it stayed for a few moments.
It seemed to me a rather odd way of doing things, it was a little awkward, but as I wasn't particularly used to rubbing shoulders with upper-class people, I thought maybe it was their way of being... Only his hand didn't stay on my hip for very long: As he showed me his courtyard, it came down again... first to the top of my thigh, then a little lower... before coming back up... under my skirt, this time."
"- You mean he's been..."
" - Yes, while he was writing about his yard and building with one hand, with the other, he was groping my buttocks."
I was flabbergasted. I remembered the troubled look on her face when she came back from the courtyard with Delange. I'd chalked it up to wonder; at no time had I suspected such a thing.
"But! You didn't say anything? You let him do it?"
"- At first, I was so surprised that I froze. And then, when I realized what was happening, I also knew right away that if I made a scene, we could forget about the apartment. Remember that a few minutes earlier, you'd made me spread my legs on the sofa. At that point, we'd all understood what was involved: we both knew that to win, we'd have to give more than the usual tokens, because it wasn't our file that was going to put us at the top of the list, and he'd understood that we were prepared to do a lot to get his apartment.
So he took a chance and I let him do it, telling myself that it was a small thing if it could get us this superb apartment... And obviously, it worked."
" - Yes, it sure did... And how long did he caress your bottom?"
"Enough, yes. It was when I felt a finger insert itself under the elastic of my panties that I finally reacted: I pulled away and suggested he come back inside. He smiled and nodded. Afterwards, I was afraid that my evasion would ruin our chances, but it didn't.
At the Same time, knowing his calculating mind by now, he probably figured it was only a matter of time, that by accepting us into his building, he might be able to try his luck again..."
"- And he did?"
" - Well, of course! Remember: moving day..."
" - When you were at his place? "
" - Yes... I swear there was nothing premeditated: I didn't fall and land in his arms on purpose. And considering what had happened the time before, I even resented you for making me follow him home..."
Yes, I remembered well the incendiary look she'd given me then.
"... Remember when you came looking for me, you were surprised to see me without pants for a simple sprain... He told you that as his cream was rather greasy we took it off to avoid staining it... Well that's exactly what he told me to make me take off my jeans...
And as I was in pain, he even took it off me... Then he rubbed some ointment on my ankle and he was right, it was very effective... He massaged for a long time, patiently... And between the after-effects of the pain and the tiredness of the move, I ended up letting myself go, relaxing under his manipulations... So much so that when I realized that his massage had gone beyond the painful area, he was already stroking my calf...
Once again, I wasn't sure what to do... maybe I should have told him that was enough, but I was a little afraid of upsetting him. And then, let's face it, his caresses were doing me a world of good and I didn't really want it to stop, even if it was becoming more and more inconvenient.
So I continued to close my eyes.
Of course, encouraged by my lack of reaction, his hands continued to move upwards, slowly but surely... From calf to knee... then from knee to thigh... to the top of my thigh...
And this time, when I felt fingers slipping under the elastic of my panties, I didn’t say anything, just held my breath. I was a little ashamed that he was going to find me so... wet, but I simply couldn't stop him.
His fingers quickly reached my fleece... then my pussy... one knuckle went in with disconcerting ease... then a second... followed by another finger... I came instantly."
"- Like this?"
"- Yes, just with his fingers."
For a long moment, I was speechless with astonishment. I was trying to recall those moments from years ago. Had I missed some clue that had made me miss the obvious?
Jennifer continued without me interfering:
"- He let me recover my senses for a few moments, then he came back... he did it again... With less care though. His right hand slipped straight into my knickers and invested my Venus mount... the other crept under my sweater... on my belly..."
I swallowed hard.
"- Did it touch you... everywhere?"
" - Yes... everywhere. Although, to be honest, I don't remember everything. I was in such a state... I... I just remember his soft hands on my skin... all over... what I'm sure of, though, is that I came a second time, very hard."
"- But... but why didn't you tell me?"
She sighed.
"I don't know. Maybe because I was ashamed to have let myself be done like that, and to have taken pleasure in it. Maybe because I was afraid of your reaction too. You could have gone crazy... Probably a bit of all that. I preferred to pretend it hadn't happened and hope it would go away."
That I could understand. I'd probably have done what she'd done. And I was beginning to get the picture...
"Except that it went on and on.
"Yes. Well, no, not right away. Nothing in particular happened for many months. Mr. Delange also acted as if nothing had happened. Even at the time of the intercom episode, remember, I started wearing miniskirts to 'convince' him to do the necessary work. "
" - Yes."
" - Well, nothing. I was afraid he'd take the opportunity to invite me to his place one day when you wouldn't be with me, but no, nothing at all... and then you started having problems with your work... "
I immediately caught on:
"- The night he came to the house, for the time delay!"
"- Yes... There again, I didn't premeditate anything. Everything I told you at the time is true: He arrived early when I wasn't ready, and he asked me to stay as it was."
I remembered that evening well. Especially her weird attitude."
" - Except that, contrary to what you told me at the time, you didn't just chat about everything and nothing for more than half an hour..."
She lowered her head.
"- No, indeed."
" - What happened then? "
"At first, nothing. We chatted and I poured him a drink. It was a little surreal: we were sitting face to face, I was in my underwear and he was talking to me as if he were at a social gathering, whereas it was he who had insisted that I shouldn't change... And then, as I approached to pour him a refill, he interrupted my gesture by grabbing my wrist and making me stand in front of him... I obeyed sheepishly, knowing full well that this was going to happen... We looked each other straight in the eye, without exchanging a single word... he remained seated and I was standing, but I felt very small in front of him... then he put his hands on my thighs... he pulled them up slowly, without taking his eyes off me... I felt his fingers hook the elastic of my panties and they slid down to my ankles... I was stunned... I knew I should have reacted, but I simply couldn't.
His eyes left mine to focus on my crotch... He stood there for long seconds doing nothing but staring at my pussy, and I was ashamed... I knew he could see I was wetting like crazy.
Then I felt fingers on the inside of my thigh... moving up... I held my breath to hide my confusion but I couldn't hold back a moan when he started to gently caress my little slit... It made him smile.
For two or three minutes, he had fun strocking me, one finger sinking little by little into my intimate folds, the thumb playing with my clit... I was ashamed, dripping onto his hand... which didn't stop me from having my first orgasm, right there, standing up... but he didn't stop there and when his lips and tongue replaced his fingers, it was fireworks! My legs were shaking... I could only lean on his shoulders as he licked me with incredible greed. Both his hands grabbed my ass and pressed my sex against his mouth... I thought he was literally going to eat my pussy... it didn't take more than five minutes before I felt a second orgasm coming on... even more powerful than the first.
I almost collapsed, my legs couldn't hold me anymore.
Then he got up and gave me a hug. I snuggled in just long enough to recover a little.
But I didn't have much time... His hands started caressing me again... my back, my buttocks, the nape of my neck... And he kissed me. On the lips.
Completely gone, I kissed him back. His tongue forced itself into my mouth. It was a tender but conquering kiss. I felt my taste on his lips... in his mouth...
He broke our kiss and, still without saying a word, lifted my T-shirt.
Docilely, I raised my arms and found myself naked in front of him... He took a slight step back and looked me up and down, smiling... "Beautiful. Magnificent." was all he said. I felt myself turning purple."
I was speechless. Stunned. Jennifer's story was so realistic that it was as if I could see her, there in the middle of our living room, completely naked in front of our landlord.
This time, I knew she wasn't just bullshitting me. She'd really let herself be caressed and licked by Delange in the middle of our apartment.
And even though this story was turning my stomach, I couldn't deny that it was giving me more than just heart palpitations: under the table, a phenomenal erection was tugging at my shorts!
And there was more to come...
"Without taking his eyes off me, he stepped back and sat down on the sofa, holding my hand and inviting me to follow him.
I don't know if that was his original intention, but I found myself on my knees in front of him.
I don't know if this was what he wanted from me or if he was just hoping without necessarily believing, but squatting there, between his legs, I knew exactly what I was going to do...
I didn't really think... I just acted...
I undid his belt, unzipped his pants...
As I plunged my hand into his underpants, I thought of you who thought he was more or less impotent... What I had under my fingers confirmed that you were wrong: he was still able to get it up, and not just a little!
He lifted his buttocks to help me pull down his pants and shorts...
I grabbed his shaft and wanked it gently while looking him straight in the eye... exactly as he looked at me when he fingered me.
He smiled. He understood that I wanted to reciprocate, ... His hand came behind my head and invited me to come closer... I didn't resist... I looked down at his glans, opened my mouth... and engulfed him.
He let out a grunt of satisfaction.
From then on, I lost it a bit... All I wanted was to give him as much pleasure as he had given me... So I tried to suck him as greedily as he had licked me.
At one point, he told me to go slower, that we weren't in a hurry, that he wanted to enjoy it... So I slowed the pace...
And then I felt his sex contract... I knew he was about to ejaculate... I didn't really think about it... at the same time, I understood that's what he wanted because his hand was back behind my neck... I know I've never offered you this before but at the time I didn't think about it... his semen invaded my mouth, my throat... and, by reflex, I swallowed it all."
Jenny had been silent for long seconds, but the movie continued in my head: My darling, naked, kneeling between the bare legs of our landlord seated in front of her... her little head rising and falling on the old man's crotch... his body tensing as his hand held the young woman's head, who froze for a moment before swallowing hard... then the two bodies disengage, he breathless and full, she wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before straightening up... then the two protagonists get dressed in silence, perhaps a little embarrassed... I arrive a few minutes later, all guns blazing, only to be astonished to discover my girlfriend's outfit... I approach her and lean in for a kiss, but she ducks...
"I understand better why now.
" - Why what? "
" - Why you ducked my kiss when I arrived that evening: you were afraid I'd find it suspicious."
She lowered her eyes.
"- Yes, you arrived less than five minutes later. I'd had time to finish my drink, but I wasn't sure it would cover everything up."
" - And that's also why, a little later, you played the avoidance game again and gave me a full blow job. You figured that way I wouldn't be able to tell the difference, just in case."
" - Yes. But not just for that. "
" - What do you mean? "
" - It wasn't just to mask one blowjob with another. It was also because I didn't think it was right for him to have something you'd never had. A kind of equalization, in fact."
" - Oh. I can understand that. Clearing your conscience, in short. "
" - If you like... But don't think I did it out of obligation. It was a pleasure and I hope that the number of times I've done it to you afterwards can convince you of that."
"- OK, fine. But I'm still wondering how you did it. That guy's almost old enough to be your grandfather!"
" - Yes, I know... But frankly, you have to admit that he doesn't look his age, he doesn't lose his hair and he's still robust, muscular. And he's got mad charisma. It's not you who's going to say otherwise, you've always told me you found him impressive. He's always impressed me too, but as a woman, that charisma had a particular resonance... I wanted to please him, to feel like a woman in his eyes... I can't really explain... I never thought of him as an old man the age of my father or grandfather, but as a charming, thoughtful, self-confident man... So maybe that doesn't explain everything, but there you go." she concluded.
No, indeed, it didn't explain everything, but was there anything to understand, after all?
Jennifer had done everything she could so that we could get and keep our apartment. She'd done it for me as much as for herself, and she'd done it according to her feelings, her instincts. It was shocking, of course, but I really wasn't in the best position to blame her... Especially as my pelvic stiffness had never let up since she'd started telling her story. At times, I'd even refrained from touching myself for fear of exploding on the spot!
And I knew there was a part of the story I still had to know, a part whose contours I was beginning to discern quite clearly...
"- And so, I suppose that when you started working for Delange, he must have started maneuvering insidiously again to little by little end up with... what happened last night."
She looked at me with an air of pity that I didn't like:
"- My poor love, you still haven't understood... He fucked me from the first morning I went to his place... and we did it again almost every time I went to work for him."
She sighed, her head still in her hands:
"- Yes, all right, I'll explain everything.... Just give me time to wake up and get in the shower... And if you'd be so kind as to make me a double cup of coffee and a couple of aspirin tablets, that'd be great because right now, I've got a tank under my skull...
I promise I'll tell you all about it later. OK?"
" - Everything? "
" - Everything, I promise. "
" - OK."
***
Jenny sat in front of me, both hands clasped around her mug of black coffee.
The shower had done her good; she looked almost presentable.
We hadn't exchanged three words since she'd gotten up.
She went to take her shower while I prepared her coffee and pills.
I couldn't think straight. Waves of incoherent thoughts and confused feelings were coming at me in a totally disordered way.
She had cheated on me, she had slept with someone else, it was now obvious. But why and under what circumstances?
I was already clinging to her future explanations like a lifeline to keep from sinking into panic.
Yet, transfixed on her mug, eyes blank, she seemed in no hurry to give me these explanations. I was going to have to motivate her:
"- Well?"
She sighed and launched forward:
"- Do you remember the day we first visited this apartment?"
" - What? What are you talking about? You promise me an explanation of what happened yesterday so you can come back in this... state and you're talking about the Greek calendar?! Are you kidding me?!"
She raised her hand to silence me, eyebrows furrowed, thumb and forefinger gripping the base of her nose as if to better concentrate and take in my virulent intervention.
"- Please, darling, let me talk. You want me to tell you everything, I will because I probably need to as much as you do. But for that to happen, you have to trust me. If you want to understand what happened last night, I'll have to start at the beginning, okay? And please don't scream, my skull feels like a pressure cooker."
"- Okay." I replied more quietly, not understanding what she was getting at.
"- So here's the thing: the day we visited the apartment, do you remember that after our interview with Mr. Delange, you stayed with the guy from the agency to sign some papers while I followed our future owner who offered to show me the central courtyard?"
"- Yes, I remember." I said, intrigued.
"- He led me through the courtyard door, discreetly guiding me with a hand behind my back, in his always elegant way... only, once in the courtyard, his hand didn't go. It slid gently to land on my hip, where it stayed for a few moments.
It seemed to me a rather odd way of doing things, it was a little awkward, but as I wasn't particularly used to rubbing shoulders with upper-class people, I thought maybe it was their way of being... Only his hand didn't stay on my hip for very long: As he showed me his courtyard, it came down again... first to the top of my thigh, then a little lower... before coming back up... under my skirt, this time."
"- You mean he's been..."
" - Yes, while he was writing about his yard and building with one hand, with the other, he was groping my buttocks."
I was flabbergasted. I remembered the troubled look on her face when she came back from the courtyard with Delange. I'd chalked it up to wonder; at no time had I suspected such a thing.
"But! You didn't say anything? You let him do it?"
"- At first, I was so surprised that I froze. And then, when I realized what was happening, I also knew right away that if I made a scene, we could forget about the apartment. Remember that a few minutes earlier, you'd made me spread my legs on the sofa. At that point, we'd all understood what was involved: we both knew that to win, we'd have to give more than the usual tokens, because it wasn't our file that was going to put us at the top of the list, and he'd understood that we were prepared to do a lot to get his apartment.
So he took a chance and I let him do it, telling myself that it was a small thing if it could get us this superb apartment... And obviously, it worked."
" - Yes, it sure did... And how long did he caress your bottom?"
"Enough, yes. It was when I felt a finger insert itself under the elastic of my panties that I finally reacted: I pulled away and suggested he come back inside. He smiled and nodded. Afterwards, I was afraid that my evasion would ruin our chances, but it didn't.
At the Same time, knowing his calculating mind by now, he probably figured it was only a matter of time, that by accepting us into his building, he might be able to try his luck again..."
"- And he did?"
" - Well, of course! Remember: moving day..."
" - When you were at his place? "
" - Yes... I swear there was nothing premeditated: I didn't fall and land in his arms on purpose. And considering what had happened the time before, I even resented you for making me follow him home..."
Yes, I remembered well the incendiary look she'd given me then.
"... Remember when you came looking for me, you were surprised to see me without pants for a simple sprain... He told you that as his cream was rather greasy we took it off to avoid staining it... Well that's exactly what he told me to make me take off my jeans...
And as I was in pain, he even took it off me... Then he rubbed some ointment on my ankle and he was right, it was very effective... He massaged for a long time, patiently... And between the after-effects of the pain and the tiredness of the move, I ended up letting myself go, relaxing under his manipulations... So much so that when I realized that his massage had gone beyond the painful area, he was already stroking my calf...
Once again, I wasn't sure what to do... maybe I should have told him that was enough, but I was a little afraid of upsetting him. And then, let's face it, his caresses were doing me a world of good and I didn't really want it to stop, even if it was becoming more and more inconvenient.
So I continued to close my eyes.
Of course, encouraged by my lack of reaction, his hands continued to move upwards, slowly but surely... From calf to knee... then from knee to thigh... to the top of my thigh...
And this time, when I felt fingers slipping under the elastic of my panties, I didn’t say anything, just held my breath. I was a little ashamed that he was going to find me so... wet, but I simply couldn't stop him.
His fingers quickly reached my fleece... then my pussy... one knuckle went in with disconcerting ease... then a second... followed by another finger... I came instantly."
"- Like this?"
"- Yes, just with his fingers."
For a long moment, I was speechless with astonishment. I was trying to recall those moments from years ago. Had I missed some clue that had made me miss the obvious?
Jennifer continued without me interfering:
"- He let me recover my senses for a few moments, then he came back... he did it again... With less care though. His right hand slipped straight into my knickers and invested my Venus mount... the other crept under my sweater... on my belly..."
I swallowed hard.
"- Did it touch you... everywhere?"
" - Yes... everywhere. Although, to be honest, I don't remember everything. I was in such a state... I... I just remember his soft hands on my skin... all over... what I'm sure of, though, is that I came a second time, very hard."
"- But... but why didn't you tell me?"
She sighed.
"I don't know. Maybe because I was ashamed to have let myself be done like that, and to have taken pleasure in it. Maybe because I was afraid of your reaction too. You could have gone crazy... Probably a bit of all that. I preferred to pretend it hadn't happened and hope it would go away."
That I could understand. I'd probably have done what she'd done. And I was beginning to get the picture...
"Except that it went on and on.
"Yes. Well, no, not right away. Nothing in particular happened for many months. Mr. Delange also acted as if nothing had happened. Even at the time of the intercom episode, remember, I started wearing miniskirts to 'convince' him to do the necessary work. "
" - Yes."
" - Well, nothing. I was afraid he'd take the opportunity to invite me to his place one day when you wouldn't be with me, but no, nothing at all... and then you started having problems with your work... "
I immediately caught on:
"- The night he came to the house, for the time delay!"
"- Yes... There again, I didn't premeditate anything. Everything I told you at the time is true: He arrived early when I wasn't ready, and he asked me to stay as it was."
I remembered that evening well. Especially her weird attitude."
" - Except that, contrary to what you told me at the time, you didn't just chat about everything and nothing for more than half an hour..."
She lowered her head.
"- No, indeed."
" - What happened then? "
"At first, nothing. We chatted and I poured him a drink. It was a little surreal: we were sitting face to face, I was in my underwear and he was talking to me as if he were at a social gathering, whereas it was he who had insisted that I shouldn't change... And then, as I approached to pour him a refill, he interrupted my gesture by grabbing my wrist and making me stand in front of him... I obeyed sheepishly, knowing full well that this was going to happen... We looked each other straight in the eye, without exchanging a single word... he remained seated and I was standing, but I felt very small in front of him... then he put his hands on my thighs... he pulled them up slowly, without taking his eyes off me... I felt his fingers hook the elastic of my panties and they slid down to my ankles... I was stunned... I knew I should have reacted, but I simply couldn't.
His eyes left mine to focus on my crotch... He stood there for long seconds doing nothing but staring at my pussy, and I was ashamed... I knew he could see I was wetting like crazy.
Then I felt fingers on the inside of my thigh... moving up... I held my breath to hide my confusion but I couldn't hold back a moan when he started to gently caress my little slit... It made him smile.
For two or three minutes, he had fun strocking me, one finger sinking little by little into my intimate folds, the thumb playing with my clit... I was ashamed, dripping onto his hand... which didn't stop me from having my first orgasm, right there, standing up... but he didn't stop there and when his lips and tongue replaced his fingers, it was fireworks! My legs were shaking... I could only lean on his shoulders as he licked me with incredible greed. Both his hands grabbed my ass and pressed my sex against his mouth... I thought he was literally going to eat my pussy... it didn't take more than five minutes before I felt a second orgasm coming on... even more powerful than the first.
I almost collapsed, my legs couldn't hold me anymore.
Then he got up and gave me a hug. I snuggled in just long enough to recover a little.
But I didn't have much time... His hands started caressing me again... my back, my buttocks, the nape of my neck... And he kissed me. On the lips.
Completely gone, I kissed him back. His tongue forced itself into my mouth. It was a tender but conquering kiss. I felt my taste on his lips... in his mouth...
He broke our kiss and, still without saying a word, lifted my T-shirt.
Docilely, I raised my arms and found myself naked in front of him... He took a slight step back and looked me up and down, smiling... "Beautiful. Magnificent." was all he said. I felt myself turning purple."
I was speechless. Stunned. Jennifer's story was so realistic that it was as if I could see her, there in the middle of our living room, completely naked in front of our landlord.
This time, I knew she wasn't just bullshitting me. She'd really let herself be caressed and licked by Delange in the middle of our apartment.
And even though this story was turning my stomach, I couldn't deny that it was giving me more than just heart palpitations: under the table, a phenomenal erection was tugging at my shorts!
And there was more to come...
"Without taking his eyes off me, he stepped back and sat down on the sofa, holding my hand and inviting me to follow him.
I don't know if that was his original intention, but I found myself on my knees in front of him.
I don't know if this was what he wanted from me or if he was just hoping without necessarily believing, but squatting there, between his legs, I knew exactly what I was going to do...
I didn't really think... I just acted...
I undid his belt, unzipped his pants...
As I plunged my hand into his underpants, I thought of you who thought he was more or less impotent... What I had under my fingers confirmed that you were wrong: he was still able to get it up, and not just a little!
He lifted his buttocks to help me pull down his pants and shorts...
I grabbed his shaft and wanked it gently while looking him straight in the eye... exactly as he looked at me when he fingered me.
He smiled. He understood that I wanted to reciprocate, ... His hand came behind my head and invited me to come closer... I didn't resist... I looked down at his glans, opened my mouth... and engulfed him.
He let out a grunt of satisfaction.
From then on, I lost it a bit... All I wanted was to give him as much pleasure as he had given me... So I tried to suck him as greedily as he had licked me.
At one point, he told me to go slower, that we weren't in a hurry, that he wanted to enjoy it... So I slowed the pace...
And then I felt his sex contract... I knew he was about to ejaculate... I didn't really think about it... at the same time, I understood that's what he wanted because his hand was back behind my neck... I know I've never offered you this before but at the time I didn't think about it... his semen invaded my mouth, my throat... and, by reflex, I swallowed it all."
Jenny had been silent for long seconds, but the movie continued in my head: My darling, naked, kneeling between the bare legs of our landlord seated in front of her... her little head rising and falling on the old man's crotch... his body tensing as his hand held the young woman's head, who froze for a moment before swallowing hard... then the two bodies disengage, he breathless and full, she wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before straightening up... then the two protagonists get dressed in silence, perhaps a little embarrassed... I arrive a few minutes later, all guns blazing, only to be astonished to discover my girlfriend's outfit... I approach her and lean in for a kiss, but she ducks...
"I understand better why now.
" - Why what? "
" - Why you ducked my kiss when I arrived that evening: you were afraid I'd find it suspicious."
She lowered her eyes.
"- Yes, you arrived less than five minutes later. I'd had time to finish my drink, but I wasn't sure it would cover everything up."
" - And that's also why, a little later, you played the avoidance game again and gave me a full blow job. You figured that way I wouldn't be able to tell the difference, just in case."
" - Yes. But not just for that. "
" - What do you mean? "
" - It wasn't just to mask one blowjob with another. It was also because I didn't think it was right for him to have something you'd never had. A kind of equalization, in fact."
" - Oh. I can understand that. Clearing your conscience, in short. "
" - If you like... But don't think I did it out of obligation. It was a pleasure and I hope that the number of times I've done it to you afterwards can convince you of that."
"- OK, fine. But I'm still wondering how you did it. That guy's almost old enough to be your grandfather!"
" - Yes, I know... But frankly, you have to admit that he doesn't look his age, he doesn't lose his hair and he's still robust, muscular. And he's got mad charisma. It's not you who's going to say otherwise, you've always told me you found him impressive. He's always impressed me too, but as a woman, that charisma had a particular resonance... I wanted to please him, to feel like a woman in his eyes... I can't really explain... I never thought of him as an old man the age of my father or grandfather, but as a charming, thoughtful, self-confident man... So maybe that doesn't explain everything, but there you go." she concluded.
No, indeed, it didn't explain everything, but was there anything to understand, after all?
Jennifer had done everything she could so that we could get and keep our apartment. She'd done it for me as much as for herself, and she'd done it according to her feelings, her instincts. It was shocking, of course, but I really wasn't in the best position to blame her... Especially as my pelvic stiffness had never let up since she'd started telling her story. At times, I'd even refrained from touching myself for fear of exploding on the spot!
And I knew there was a part of the story I still had to know, a part whose contours I was beginning to discern quite clearly...
"- And so, I suppose that when you started working for Delange, he must have started maneuvering insidiously again to little by little end up with... what happened last night."
She looked at me with an air of pity that I didn't like:
"- My poor love, you still haven't understood... He fucked me from the first morning I went to his place... and we did it again almost every time I went to work for him."
-
htwfluver_4
- Virgin
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Sat Dec 08, 2012 2:09 am
Re: The Landlord
This has left me almost speechless. Incredible journey. Can't wait for the story to continue.
Re: The Landlord
Wow! This is getting better and better.
Re: The Landlord
Such an erotic account and exceedingly well written. As others have already said, you always leave us wanting more.
Re: The Landlord
It is quite hot. Thank you.
Re: The Landlord
Amazing hot. Very intrigued by this story. Once knew a girl briefly that had similar experiences. Ty for good reading.
-
Vic-Deakins
- Virgin
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Fri Jan 10, 2020 10:55 am
Re: The Landlord
Good story!!
Keep em coming
Keep em coming
-
armyguyot1
- Site Admin
- Posts: 6139
- Joined: Thu Aug 12, 2010 2:25 pm
- Location: Northwest
Re: The Landlord
Welcome to the forum DukeHomie.
Re: The Landlord
Thank you all faor your kind words.
Re: The Landlord
I was petrified.
No, that wasn't possible. I would have realized something. It couldn't be true !
When she saw that I didn't react, she thought it best to elaborate:
"When we went to his place to "negotiate" an extension of the deadline, I went all out and wore no underwear. Nothing had happened since that evening at our house. I was completely unaware of his intentions. All I could hope for was to get him to give us a few more months by giving him some vague hope of repeating what had happened at our place. I knew it was rather cheeky and sounded like a deal: If you want me to suck you off again, you give us time in exchange. It wasn't very glorious, but we didn't really have a choice and, after all, that's what had happened the previous time. Only this time, it was intentional.
When he made us this proposal, I was completely taken aback, I didn't understand.
But when you told me about his dress code, I understood everything. I knew I was in for it.
I didn't know if he'd premeditated his move or if he'd taken advantage of my silent proposal to outbid me, but what I was certain of was that sooner or later, he'd get me into bed.
And, to be honest, I must admit that somewhere along the line, I wanted to...
So, on the first morning, when he showed me around and we arrived in his room, I didn't really resist... Since the beginning of the visit, he had been very tactile with me, touching my arm all the time for a yes or a no... When we got to the bedroom, in front of the bed, he stood behind me... I felt his hands on my shoulders, my arms, my waist... I let him undress me in silence...and then voilà, no need to draw you a picture. "
No, no need, indeed. The picture was already developing in my head: two naked bodies entwined on an old-fashioned bed... her small breasts crushed beneath the broad chest... her slender fingers digging into the gray hair... her legs spread wide to give free rein to the powerful loins of his muscular ass... I'd had this vision before in my most extreme deliriums, but now it suddenly took on a whole new consistency. It was no longer a vague fantasy, it was reality, what had really happened!
Suddenly, the arrangement with Delange was revealed in a completely different light, and to Delange's clear benefit. Surely the old bastard could be magnanimous: he was screwing a young girl not even half his age!
"But... but why didn't you tell me?
- Pff! I still don't know... I was afraid you'd react badly, that you'd go and punch him in the face... I was ashamed, too. Even if I never considered it immoral, and even if our "financial arrangement" was ultimately just a pretext, I was well aware, despite everything, that I was flirting with the limits. I knew you'd never agree to that kind of deal.
- How is that an pretext?
- Well... it's true that at the start it was quite clear between us: I'd let him do it and he'd wipe the slate clean, only... it soon became clear that this wasn't a chore for me... I was really enjoying it... he realized this and I had to face the facts: I was enjoying these hours spent at his place, with him... so much so that I ended up wishing for them...
- But... I still don't understand, and I keep telling myself: He's old! He could be your father, or even your grandfather!
- Don't exaggerate. And I can assure you that he's kept a physical condition that many younger people would envy."
I didn't want to consider what that last remark implied. It was too... disturbing.
Yet the damage had been done:
"So that's it. He makes love better than me? He's better endowed?"
She smiled thoughtfully.
"No, he's not really better endowed than you... Maybe just a little shorter and a little thicker, but nothing notable... On the other hand, it's true that he makes love differently... With you, it's all wild and energetic, and I must admit I get a kick out of it, but with him, it's totally different, more sensual, gentler... and longer too, it's amazing how long he can hold it... In fact, the two of you are perfectly complementary: With you the big outbursts that make me capsize in a few minutes and with him the long flights that take me to another pleasure, just as powerful. "
That was it, the words had been said. She had a lover, and that lover was our landlord. The one whose impotence I gratuitously suspected and who, meanwhile, was banging my wife behind my back.
Ah, how they must have laughed!
As she continued to talk to me, I mentally replayed the last few months. I now understood better the systematic showers and laundry on the way home. Their purpose was to hide any traces of their foul deeds.
Then, suddenly, the starkly obvious became clear:
"You didn't protect yourselves. He never wore condoms!
- Come on, David, he's 62. He's way past the age of running around. Besides, I know he's responsible enough not to put us in danger, him and me."
I could only hope so, because in any case, the damage had been done. And if he was in full possession of his sexual capacities, which he obviously seemed to be, there was nothing to stop him using his considerable financial means to afford the services of a professional escort from time to time. But I preferred not to raise the subject for the moment, especially as another obvious fact had just come to light:
"And when you thought you were pregnant, the reason you were so alarmed was because you feared it was from him!"
She lowered her head and nodded without confirming aloud.
It did indeed explain better the catastrophized look she'd had at the time. And fortunately it had only been a false alarm, after all.
But the pieces of the puzzle kept falling into place by themselves, faster and faster.
"Wait! Wait! Earlier, you told me that when you first gave me a full blowjob, right after him, you did it to sort of 'even things out'... am I to conclude that I owe him the first anal sex too? That it was also to 'equalize' after you'd been 'hole the puck' at his place a few hours earlier?"
She didn't notice my deliberately insulting formulation. In a weak voice, she admitted:
"Yes, it was also to even things up. Because it wasn't fair that you weren't entitled to it when I knew you'd wanted it for a long time... I knew it would hurt you to learn that you hadn't been the first to... go through it. But it's just that he knew how to find the right words and gestures to convince me. There was no deliberate effort on my part. On the other hand, it wasn't a few hours later but a few days later... My "puck", as you put it, wouldn't have withstood two assaults on the same day. What reassured me, though, was that you've been enjoying it ever since, haven't you? So does it really matter who goes first?"
What she was forgetting was that I hadn't been the first to take her flower either, since she'd known another guy before me who'd taken her cherry in a hurry and whose memory she didn't hold in high esteem. I could have gotten some satisfaction out of at least getting the first crack at her tails.
But maybe she was right. It was a matter of masculine pride to know that you were the first. And, once again, the damage had been done.
"But, then, all your ranting lately: 'He wants me to come without underwear', 'He checked me out', 'He touched me'... What was the point?"
She sighed heavily. Clearly, this was getting to the heart of the matter.
"Even if, in my mind, I always put forward the fact of contributing, in my own way, to the payment of the rent, there came a moment when it became too obvious that it was no longer just an excuse: I liked being with him, I liked making love with him. It was no longer dedication to the good of our household but outright cheating. I was cheating on you with him. When I realized this, I told myself that I couldn't hide it from you forever, sooner or later I'd have to tell you... for the sake of my conscience... At the same time, I'd noticed from the start that, in a way, it turned you on to let me show myself off to him. We'd even played around a bit with each other to spice up a few evenings, remember? So I came up with the idea of gradually telling you more and more explicit tales, to see how you'd react and also to gradually prepare you for the revelation of the truth.
I must say I was pleasantly surprised to discover that you were much more excited about it than I thought you'd be, even though I knew that for you it was still just fantasy. I was still afraid that the transition to reality would be a little rough, which is why I waited a little longer, just to prepare the ground a little more, but I swear I was going to tell you very soon... And then there was last night...
- What happened last night?
- At first, nothing special. Leo was having his...
- Leo? You call him by his first name now?
- Yeah, it's been a while. He asked me to, because he was fed up with me continuing to call him sir when we slept together twice a week. His real first name is Léopold, but I think Léo is better, it sounds less old.
So he'd have his friends over and I'd serve the drinks and appetizers. There were six of them, more or less his age... Very quickly, they asked me to eat and drink with them. Then they got down to their card game, all the while boozing away. I don't know if it was my presence or what, but they seemed particularly cheerful and dissipated for a card game. Leo kept groping me more or less discreetly. I'd never seen him like that. He's usually rather reserved, but here he looked like a kid proud to show off his new toy to his little friends. After a while, it became pretty obvious that his five guests were aware of the nature of my relationship with him. So, to keep things under control and avoid thinking too much about what these men might think of me, I too carried on drinking with them... in a way, it also amused me to see these old wolves playing the peacock and rolling up their sleeves to impress me. It was a case of who could fill my glass first, or pay me the nicest compliment on my looks or my outfit. It was like a bunch of teenagers on the town.
I was well aware that I was the focus of the evening, but for the time being, it was all rather cosy. They continued to play cards and I ended up sitting on Leo's lap... with the help of alcohol, his hands became more and more adventurous on me and his companions must not have had much doubt about what he was doing under the table... only, by concentrating on my curves, he was abandoning his game and losing regularly. I didn't quite understand whether they were playing real money or virtual sums, but after a while he found himself with a nice slate. So his biggest creditor offered to write off his debt and continue playing in exchange for one thing: for me to finish the game on his lap... Leo burst out laughing and sent me over to his friend's lap... That's when things started to get out of hand...
My new partner soon had the same hands as my old one... he too ended up losing and I changed seats again... and so on. It's about this time that I lose track of my memories. I'd really had too much to drink, and you know it doesn't take much for me to get tipsy... I have flashes of memory. I remember that at one point my panties ended up on the table and were auctioned off, then my bra... After that, it's even fuzzier. I found myself with sex in my hand... then one in each hand... then one in my mouth... no, I don't know... I don't know anymore, I can't distinguish between what's a memory and what's pure delirium."
I was once again speechless with daze.
After learning that my fiancée had been having an affair with our landlord for several months, I listened to her tell me about an evening that was looking more and more like a gang-bang!
And what was worse, the erection that had once left me had returned with tenfold power!
"You... you think these men have...
- Fucked me? Honestly, I can't tell you. she answered with an apologetic look. I really was too out of it. In my heart of hearts, I don't think so. I don't think Leo would have let that happen, but I'm not sure either.
She shrugged.
"I'll ask him. she added.
- Yes, that would be nice."
My inner self was telling me that, given the amount that had leaked from her crotch since that night, there must have been more than one man between her thighs over the course of the evening.
However, I didn't want to alarm or condemn her. We hadn't reached that point.
"What are we going to do now?"
No, that wasn't possible. I would have realized something. It couldn't be true !
When she saw that I didn't react, she thought it best to elaborate:
"When we went to his place to "negotiate" an extension of the deadline, I went all out and wore no underwear. Nothing had happened since that evening at our house. I was completely unaware of his intentions. All I could hope for was to get him to give us a few more months by giving him some vague hope of repeating what had happened at our place. I knew it was rather cheeky and sounded like a deal: If you want me to suck you off again, you give us time in exchange. It wasn't very glorious, but we didn't really have a choice and, after all, that's what had happened the previous time. Only this time, it was intentional.
When he made us this proposal, I was completely taken aback, I didn't understand.
But when you told me about his dress code, I understood everything. I knew I was in for it.
I didn't know if he'd premeditated his move or if he'd taken advantage of my silent proposal to outbid me, but what I was certain of was that sooner or later, he'd get me into bed.
And, to be honest, I must admit that somewhere along the line, I wanted to...
So, on the first morning, when he showed me around and we arrived in his room, I didn't really resist... Since the beginning of the visit, he had been very tactile with me, touching my arm all the time for a yes or a no... When we got to the bedroom, in front of the bed, he stood behind me... I felt his hands on my shoulders, my arms, my waist... I let him undress me in silence...and then voilà, no need to draw you a picture. "
No, no need, indeed. The picture was already developing in my head: two naked bodies entwined on an old-fashioned bed... her small breasts crushed beneath the broad chest... her slender fingers digging into the gray hair... her legs spread wide to give free rein to the powerful loins of his muscular ass... I'd had this vision before in my most extreme deliriums, but now it suddenly took on a whole new consistency. It was no longer a vague fantasy, it was reality, what had really happened!
Suddenly, the arrangement with Delange was revealed in a completely different light, and to Delange's clear benefit. Surely the old bastard could be magnanimous: he was screwing a young girl not even half his age!
"But... but why didn't you tell me?
- Pff! I still don't know... I was afraid you'd react badly, that you'd go and punch him in the face... I was ashamed, too. Even if I never considered it immoral, and even if our "financial arrangement" was ultimately just a pretext, I was well aware, despite everything, that I was flirting with the limits. I knew you'd never agree to that kind of deal.
- How is that an pretext?
- Well... it's true that at the start it was quite clear between us: I'd let him do it and he'd wipe the slate clean, only... it soon became clear that this wasn't a chore for me... I was really enjoying it... he realized this and I had to face the facts: I was enjoying these hours spent at his place, with him... so much so that I ended up wishing for them...
- But... I still don't understand, and I keep telling myself: He's old! He could be your father, or even your grandfather!
- Don't exaggerate. And I can assure you that he's kept a physical condition that many younger people would envy."
I didn't want to consider what that last remark implied. It was too... disturbing.
Yet the damage had been done:
"So that's it. He makes love better than me? He's better endowed?"
She smiled thoughtfully.
"No, he's not really better endowed than you... Maybe just a little shorter and a little thicker, but nothing notable... On the other hand, it's true that he makes love differently... With you, it's all wild and energetic, and I must admit I get a kick out of it, but with him, it's totally different, more sensual, gentler... and longer too, it's amazing how long he can hold it... In fact, the two of you are perfectly complementary: With you the big outbursts that make me capsize in a few minutes and with him the long flights that take me to another pleasure, just as powerful. "
That was it, the words had been said. She had a lover, and that lover was our landlord. The one whose impotence I gratuitously suspected and who, meanwhile, was banging my wife behind my back.
Ah, how they must have laughed!
As she continued to talk to me, I mentally replayed the last few months. I now understood better the systematic showers and laundry on the way home. Their purpose was to hide any traces of their foul deeds.
Then, suddenly, the starkly obvious became clear:
"You didn't protect yourselves. He never wore condoms!
- Come on, David, he's 62. He's way past the age of running around. Besides, I know he's responsible enough not to put us in danger, him and me."
I could only hope so, because in any case, the damage had been done. And if he was in full possession of his sexual capacities, which he obviously seemed to be, there was nothing to stop him using his considerable financial means to afford the services of a professional escort from time to time. But I preferred not to raise the subject for the moment, especially as another obvious fact had just come to light:
"And when you thought you were pregnant, the reason you were so alarmed was because you feared it was from him!"
She lowered her head and nodded without confirming aloud.
It did indeed explain better the catastrophized look she'd had at the time. And fortunately it had only been a false alarm, after all.
But the pieces of the puzzle kept falling into place by themselves, faster and faster.
"Wait! Wait! Earlier, you told me that when you first gave me a full blowjob, right after him, you did it to sort of 'even things out'... am I to conclude that I owe him the first anal sex too? That it was also to 'equalize' after you'd been 'hole the puck' at his place a few hours earlier?"
She didn't notice my deliberately insulting formulation. In a weak voice, she admitted:
"Yes, it was also to even things up. Because it wasn't fair that you weren't entitled to it when I knew you'd wanted it for a long time... I knew it would hurt you to learn that you hadn't been the first to... go through it. But it's just that he knew how to find the right words and gestures to convince me. There was no deliberate effort on my part. On the other hand, it wasn't a few hours later but a few days later... My "puck", as you put it, wouldn't have withstood two assaults on the same day. What reassured me, though, was that you've been enjoying it ever since, haven't you? So does it really matter who goes first?"
What she was forgetting was that I hadn't been the first to take her flower either, since she'd known another guy before me who'd taken her cherry in a hurry and whose memory she didn't hold in high esteem. I could have gotten some satisfaction out of at least getting the first crack at her tails.
But maybe she was right. It was a matter of masculine pride to know that you were the first. And, once again, the damage had been done.
"But, then, all your ranting lately: 'He wants me to come without underwear', 'He checked me out', 'He touched me'... What was the point?"
She sighed heavily. Clearly, this was getting to the heart of the matter.
"Even if, in my mind, I always put forward the fact of contributing, in my own way, to the payment of the rent, there came a moment when it became too obvious that it was no longer just an excuse: I liked being with him, I liked making love with him. It was no longer dedication to the good of our household but outright cheating. I was cheating on you with him. When I realized this, I told myself that I couldn't hide it from you forever, sooner or later I'd have to tell you... for the sake of my conscience... At the same time, I'd noticed from the start that, in a way, it turned you on to let me show myself off to him. We'd even played around a bit with each other to spice up a few evenings, remember? So I came up with the idea of gradually telling you more and more explicit tales, to see how you'd react and also to gradually prepare you for the revelation of the truth.
I must say I was pleasantly surprised to discover that you were much more excited about it than I thought you'd be, even though I knew that for you it was still just fantasy. I was still afraid that the transition to reality would be a little rough, which is why I waited a little longer, just to prepare the ground a little more, but I swear I was going to tell you very soon... And then there was last night...
- What happened last night?
- At first, nothing special. Leo was having his...
- Leo? You call him by his first name now?
- Yeah, it's been a while. He asked me to, because he was fed up with me continuing to call him sir when we slept together twice a week. His real first name is Léopold, but I think Léo is better, it sounds less old.
So he'd have his friends over and I'd serve the drinks and appetizers. There were six of them, more or less his age... Very quickly, they asked me to eat and drink with them. Then they got down to their card game, all the while boozing away. I don't know if it was my presence or what, but they seemed particularly cheerful and dissipated for a card game. Leo kept groping me more or less discreetly. I'd never seen him like that. He's usually rather reserved, but here he looked like a kid proud to show off his new toy to his little friends. After a while, it became pretty obvious that his five guests were aware of the nature of my relationship with him. So, to keep things under control and avoid thinking too much about what these men might think of me, I too carried on drinking with them... in a way, it also amused me to see these old wolves playing the peacock and rolling up their sleeves to impress me. It was a case of who could fill my glass first, or pay me the nicest compliment on my looks or my outfit. It was like a bunch of teenagers on the town.
I was well aware that I was the focus of the evening, but for the time being, it was all rather cosy. They continued to play cards and I ended up sitting on Leo's lap... with the help of alcohol, his hands became more and more adventurous on me and his companions must not have had much doubt about what he was doing under the table... only, by concentrating on my curves, he was abandoning his game and losing regularly. I didn't quite understand whether they were playing real money or virtual sums, but after a while he found himself with a nice slate. So his biggest creditor offered to write off his debt and continue playing in exchange for one thing: for me to finish the game on his lap... Leo burst out laughing and sent me over to his friend's lap... That's when things started to get out of hand...
My new partner soon had the same hands as my old one... he too ended up losing and I changed seats again... and so on. It's about this time that I lose track of my memories. I'd really had too much to drink, and you know it doesn't take much for me to get tipsy... I have flashes of memory. I remember that at one point my panties ended up on the table and were auctioned off, then my bra... After that, it's even fuzzier. I found myself with sex in my hand... then one in each hand... then one in my mouth... no, I don't know... I don't know anymore, I can't distinguish between what's a memory and what's pure delirium."
I was once again speechless with daze.
After learning that my fiancée had been having an affair with our landlord for several months, I listened to her tell me about an evening that was looking more and more like a gang-bang!
And what was worse, the erection that had once left me had returned with tenfold power!
"You... you think these men have...
- Fucked me? Honestly, I can't tell you. she answered with an apologetic look. I really was too out of it. In my heart of hearts, I don't think so. I don't think Leo would have let that happen, but I'm not sure either.
She shrugged.
"I'll ask him. she added.
- Yes, that would be nice."
My inner self was telling me that, given the amount that had leaked from her crotch since that night, there must have been more than one man between her thighs over the course of the evening.
However, I didn't want to alarm or condemn her. We hadn't reached that point.
"What are we going to do now?"
Re: The Landlord
frenchie - what a fabulous tale about what is apparently becoming some fabulous tail !!!! this is all great fun, not to mention very fine writing. please continue to keep kinky fuckers like me thrilled !
Re: The Landlord
"What are we going to do now?"
She let another long moment pass before answering me:
"Look, first of all, what you need to be convinced of is that I love you, I've always loved you and I always will. What happened downstairs won't change that. You are and always will be the love of my life.
Then, when I made the decision to tell you everything, I also wondered what would happen once you knew.
My first concern was that you wouldn't want me anymore. That's why I put it off so long.
Then, when I realized that this could turn you on and that our relationship could perhaps last despite my infidelity, I came to the conclusion that there was no reason to change anything: You still haven't regained your original salary level and we still need Leo's goodwill to keep our apartment. The fact that this goodwill is acquired thanks to an arrangement that provides for sex in which I find contentment is ultimately only anecdotal. It's a win-win situation.
- Anecdotal, you're sweet! I understand that the fact that you take pleasure in it proves, in your point of vue, that you're not whoring yourself out for the good of our household, ok, I get that, but you'll still understand that I have a bit of trouble letting my fiancée go and meet her lover twice a week without saying anything and with full knowledge of the facts. Because you're right about one thing: there's a big difference between fantasy and reality."
"OK, I'll admit it... and I even completely understand it... Only, then you'll have to explain to me why you've been hard for the last hour under the table." she asserted, suddenly pressing her foot against the stiffness of my crotch.
Mamma mia!
She let another long moment pass before answering me:
"Look, first of all, what you need to be convinced of is that I love you, I've always loved you and I always will. What happened downstairs won't change that. You are and always will be the love of my life.
Then, when I made the decision to tell you everything, I also wondered what would happen once you knew.
My first concern was that you wouldn't want me anymore. That's why I put it off so long.
Then, when I realized that this could turn you on and that our relationship could perhaps last despite my infidelity, I came to the conclusion that there was no reason to change anything: You still haven't regained your original salary level and we still need Leo's goodwill to keep our apartment. The fact that this goodwill is acquired thanks to an arrangement that provides for sex in which I find contentment is ultimately only anecdotal. It's a win-win situation.
- Anecdotal, you're sweet! I understand that the fact that you take pleasure in it proves, in your point of vue, that you're not whoring yourself out for the good of our household, ok, I get that, but you'll still understand that I have a bit of trouble letting my fiancée go and meet her lover twice a week without saying anything and with full knowledge of the facts. Because you're right about one thing: there's a big difference between fantasy and reality."
"OK, I'll admit it... and I even completely understand it... Only, then you'll have to explain to me why you've been hard for the last hour under the table." she asserted, suddenly pressing her foot against the stiffness of my crotch.
Mamma mia!
Re: The Landlord
Jennifer stayed in bed most of the time that weekend. She needed to recover and soothe a persistent migraine, the origin of which was no secret.
It gave me a lot of time to think about these revelations.
But that time didn't allow me to make much progress on my own feelings and what I was going to do about them.
It was still too fresh, too disturbing to be able to make a calm analysis.
The hardest thing was to understand the paradoxical excitement I felt at the mention of my fiancée's antics with her lover.
Of course, I felt hurt and betrayed, but it was more about the lies and secrecy than the act itself. As soon as I began to imagine Jenny in Delange's arms, it was sexual excitement that irrevocably took precedence over everything else.
Totally confusing.
I didn't know what to think.
Ideas were looping in my head non-stop, faster and faster, with no coherence whatsoever.
I went through every kind of feeling, from anger to sadness, from indifference to self-flagellation.
At one point, feeling like my head was going to explode, I threw myself into the shower and, like a madman, alternated between scalding and freezing jets.
I don't know if it was very good for my heart, but at least it had the merit of putting my mind back in place a bit. I came out groggy but calm. Almost serene.
In the end, I just had to ask myself the right questions:
First: did I still love Jennifer that much?
The answer was easy, obvious: Yes. Three times yes.
No matter how hurt I was by her betrayal, no matter how wounded my self-esteem, I couldn't help it: I still loved her more than anything. I knew that, in time, I'd be able to forgive her.
Secondly, could I stop all this?
Despite her desire to continue, I seriously thought that if I asked, Jenny would stop seeing Delange. She loved me above all, she'd reaffirmed that. So she would obey me.
But there would be consequences. We'd have to move at very short notice, because it seemed obvious to me that Delange wouldn't accept any more arrangements. And speaking of arrangements, how was he going to deal with the break-up? Finally, officially and despite Jenny's employment contract, we still had several months' arrears that we couldn't honor.
Of course, we could take the matter to court, claiming sexual harassment, but it would certainly not be without a price tag. I imagined that neither he nor my girlfriend wanted their lovemaking to be made public.
But then what? What would become of us?
Even if I imagined we'd come out of a legal conflict with our landlord unscathed, what could I offer Jenny in the way of a future?
On my meagre salary, we could now only afford a tiny one-bedroom apartment in the depths of a squalid suburb, eating potatoes from the 15th of the month.
At this rate, after how many months would I no longer have the courage to look my princess in the eye? She who had sacrificed so much to keep us afloat.
Okay, so the sacrifice was no longer a sacrifice. But she had given herself to Delange in the first place in that state of mind. Could I really destroy all that?
No, the answer was clearly no.
We had tasted a certain ease, there was no turning back.
But that meant we had to stay put, and that meant Jenny would continue to see Delange twice a week.
From then on, two other questions came to the fore:
- Could I stand it?
- Was I in danger of losing Jen?
The answer to the second was a resounding yes. Staying in this building meant leaving her under the thumb of a rival who obviously had more than one argument to make.
But did I really have a choice? In any case, forcing her to leave and live a shabby little life meant running the risk of almost certainly losing her in the long term.
Hence the first question: could I bear to share her?
I had no answer to this question.
But, out of love for her, I was willing to try.
Besides, I had to stop lying to myself: perhaps the status quo would allow me to come to terms with myself and, above all, with the absurd excitement that gripped me when I thought of my partner's misbehavior with another man...
So that's what I suggested to Jennifer on the evening of that unlikely weekend: the status quo until something better comes along. Until I could figure out how to live with it.
I did, however, have one demand:
"For the time being, I'd like him not to know that I know. You see, it would be too weird to bump into each other on the stairs, both of us knowing what it's all about. I'd rather look like an ignorant idiot than a willing cuckold.
- Okay, if that's all, no worries.
- And I have one more question.
- Name it.
- Do you still clean his house?"
She laughed.
"Of course I do! I have to justify my salary a little! But it's true that there's not much to do. Léo's a tidy, meticulous man, so that leaves us plenty of time for... the rest. On the other hand, his story about being allergic to dust was bunk."
It gave me a lot of time to think about these revelations.
But that time didn't allow me to make much progress on my own feelings and what I was going to do about them.
It was still too fresh, too disturbing to be able to make a calm analysis.
The hardest thing was to understand the paradoxical excitement I felt at the mention of my fiancée's antics with her lover.
Of course, I felt hurt and betrayed, but it was more about the lies and secrecy than the act itself. As soon as I began to imagine Jenny in Delange's arms, it was sexual excitement that irrevocably took precedence over everything else.
Totally confusing.
I didn't know what to think.
Ideas were looping in my head non-stop, faster and faster, with no coherence whatsoever.
I went through every kind of feeling, from anger to sadness, from indifference to self-flagellation.
At one point, feeling like my head was going to explode, I threw myself into the shower and, like a madman, alternated between scalding and freezing jets.
I don't know if it was very good for my heart, but at least it had the merit of putting my mind back in place a bit. I came out groggy but calm. Almost serene.
In the end, I just had to ask myself the right questions:
First: did I still love Jennifer that much?
The answer was easy, obvious: Yes. Three times yes.
No matter how hurt I was by her betrayal, no matter how wounded my self-esteem, I couldn't help it: I still loved her more than anything. I knew that, in time, I'd be able to forgive her.
Secondly, could I stop all this?
Despite her desire to continue, I seriously thought that if I asked, Jenny would stop seeing Delange. She loved me above all, she'd reaffirmed that. So she would obey me.
But there would be consequences. We'd have to move at very short notice, because it seemed obvious to me that Delange wouldn't accept any more arrangements. And speaking of arrangements, how was he going to deal with the break-up? Finally, officially and despite Jenny's employment contract, we still had several months' arrears that we couldn't honor.
Of course, we could take the matter to court, claiming sexual harassment, but it would certainly not be without a price tag. I imagined that neither he nor my girlfriend wanted their lovemaking to be made public.
But then what? What would become of us?
Even if I imagined we'd come out of a legal conflict with our landlord unscathed, what could I offer Jenny in the way of a future?
On my meagre salary, we could now only afford a tiny one-bedroom apartment in the depths of a squalid suburb, eating potatoes from the 15th of the month.
At this rate, after how many months would I no longer have the courage to look my princess in the eye? She who had sacrificed so much to keep us afloat.
Okay, so the sacrifice was no longer a sacrifice. But she had given herself to Delange in the first place in that state of mind. Could I really destroy all that?
No, the answer was clearly no.
We had tasted a certain ease, there was no turning back.
But that meant we had to stay put, and that meant Jenny would continue to see Delange twice a week.
From then on, two other questions came to the fore:
- Could I stand it?
- Was I in danger of losing Jen?
The answer to the second was a resounding yes. Staying in this building meant leaving her under the thumb of a rival who obviously had more than one argument to make.
But did I really have a choice? In any case, forcing her to leave and live a shabby little life meant running the risk of almost certainly losing her in the long term.
Hence the first question: could I bear to share her?
I had no answer to this question.
But, out of love for her, I was willing to try.
Besides, I had to stop lying to myself: perhaps the status quo would allow me to come to terms with myself and, above all, with the absurd excitement that gripped me when I thought of my partner's misbehavior with another man...
So that's what I suggested to Jennifer on the evening of that unlikely weekend: the status quo until something better comes along. Until I could figure out how to live with it.
I did, however, have one demand:
"For the time being, I'd like him not to know that I know. You see, it would be too weird to bump into each other on the stairs, both of us knowing what it's all about. I'd rather look like an ignorant idiot than a willing cuckold.
- Okay, if that's all, no worries.
- And I have one more question.
- Name it.
- Do you still clean his house?"
She laughed.
"Of course I do! I have to justify my salary a little! But it's true that there's not much to do. Léo's a tidy, meticulous man, so that leaves us plenty of time for... the rest. On the other hand, his story about being allergic to dust was bunk."
Re: The Landlord
Hubby has quite the little loveable slut on his hands, and really hot he doesn’t want the landlord to know he knows
Re: The Landlord
Cant wait for the continue..
Re: The Landlord
It's true that there's a huge difference between fantasy and reality.
I realized this as early as the following Tuesday, when I found myself alone in my office after leaving Jenny at Delange's door. This time, it wasn't just a phantasmagorical delusion. While I worked on my files, she was going to let our landlord undress her, caress her, taste her... She was going to spread her legs and invite him to penetrate and pound her. She'd moan with pleasure, maybe scream, and he'd end up emptying himself inside her.
It was impossible for me to work that morning. I couldn't concentrate on my notes, couldn't think of anything but their two bodies entwined, their hands caressing each other, her little vulva greedily welcoming the foreign sex.
No matter how much I told myself that after all, they were only doing what they'd done dozens of times before, the knowledge that it was happening right there, right then, was turning my senses inside out.
I restrained myself, however, from calling Jenny at a time when she was usually due back at the apartment. I didn't want her to think I was stalking her. Asking her to account for anything would probably not have gone down well. After all, she'd managed all this on her own. She didn't need my absolution or my control.
In the same way, I remained very neutral that evening. I didn't put the question to her.
What would she have told me anyway? I couldn't see her giving me a detailed account of the positions taken or the course of events.
I was well aware that for her, what happened "on the first floor", as she put it, was not something to be discussed on the sixth floor.
Even so, I asked her if they'd talked about Friday night, and in particular about the pieces that were missing from her memory.
She replied that they had, but obviously the man's explanation wasn't much clearer than hers. Either he'd been too soaked to remember the precise sequence of events, or he wasn't particularly keen on giving away disturbing details.
It wasn't exactly reassuring.
But then again. Since I'd probably never get to the bottom of the story, it was best to move on. So I didn't insist. I just recommended that she take some tests "just in case", which she agreed to do.
So we've effectively moved on. We resumed our routine.
A strange routine, really, where Jennifer continued to go twice a week to Delange's to officially clean, but where we both knew exactly what was going on at those times.
Even though, over time, I came to terms with the fact that my fiancée was going to have sex with our landlord for our common good, I still had a lot of trouble processing it. As soon as I thought about it (and I thought about it all the time during the fateful hours), a big lump came over my stomach and I had to develop treasures of relaxation to calm myself down a little.
In the building, things were no better. I avoided Delange as much as possible, and on the rare occasions we crossed paths, I tried not to look at him because I knew it wouldn't be the landlord I'd be seeing, but the man who'd been screwing my sweetheart every Tuesday morning and Friday night. And I didn't want to visualize him...
But beyond Delange, it was gradually all the tenants in the building that I began to suspect. Irrationally enough, I had the impression that they all suspected something, and that it was they who were looking at me differently, the cuckold of the 6th floor, as they must have called me.
Fortunately, things were going well at home. Jennifer was even conscientiously trying to prove to me in a very factual way that her relationship with Delange had so far changed nothing in our life as a couple and would continue to do so. She was as eager for sex as ever, and even seemed to be asking for more.
And since this situation hadn't dampened my libido at all, on the contrary, the evenings were hot among the young people of the 6th floor.
It all started on the first Friday after the "weekend of revelation": That evening, I was waiting for my darling with bated breath. She no longer had to duck straight for the shower room, but I was determined not to let her.
When she appeared, I immediately detected the clues I'd always ignored until then: Her rosy cheeks, her long hair that had been combed in a hurry, her bright eyes, her shortness of breath... yes, there was no doubt about it, it couldn't all be attributed to walking up five flights of stairs. She did look as if she'd just been fucked.
Finding myself on the way to the bathroom, she hesitated for a moment. With a gesture I reassured her and drew her against me for a fiery kiss.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't searching the taste of her lips for clues as to the exact nature of her very recent guilty occupation. But I found none.
On the other hand, my hand, which quickly ventured under her skirt, undeniably encountered a soggy crotch.
Soggy and sticky.
This realization brought to light a question I hadn't raised since I'd learned:
"By the way, why did you insist on showering here afterwards, at the risk of being caught out like now? Why didn't you shower at his place?
- Well, because this is where I keep all my little things and it's more comfortable this way. Besides, don't you think you'd have found it suspicious to see me coming back from our landlord's house freshly showered? In fact, the proof is that you never asked yourself the question."
She had a point.
But she annoyed me by always having an answer for everything.
"Suck me." I ordered her curtly to put her down.
Her mischievous smile didn't disappear at all.
On the contrary, it widened when, slipping to her knees, she noted the priapic state of my pelvic appendage...
I realized this as early as the following Tuesday, when I found myself alone in my office after leaving Jenny at Delange's door. This time, it wasn't just a phantasmagorical delusion. While I worked on my files, she was going to let our landlord undress her, caress her, taste her... She was going to spread her legs and invite him to penetrate and pound her. She'd moan with pleasure, maybe scream, and he'd end up emptying himself inside her.
It was impossible for me to work that morning. I couldn't concentrate on my notes, couldn't think of anything but their two bodies entwined, their hands caressing each other, her little vulva greedily welcoming the foreign sex.
No matter how much I told myself that after all, they were only doing what they'd done dozens of times before, the knowledge that it was happening right there, right then, was turning my senses inside out.
I restrained myself, however, from calling Jenny at a time when she was usually due back at the apartment. I didn't want her to think I was stalking her. Asking her to account for anything would probably not have gone down well. After all, she'd managed all this on her own. She didn't need my absolution or my control.
In the same way, I remained very neutral that evening. I didn't put the question to her.
What would she have told me anyway? I couldn't see her giving me a detailed account of the positions taken or the course of events.
I was well aware that for her, what happened "on the first floor", as she put it, was not something to be discussed on the sixth floor.
Even so, I asked her if they'd talked about Friday night, and in particular about the pieces that were missing from her memory.
She replied that they had, but obviously the man's explanation wasn't much clearer than hers. Either he'd been too soaked to remember the precise sequence of events, or he wasn't particularly keen on giving away disturbing details.
It wasn't exactly reassuring.
But then again. Since I'd probably never get to the bottom of the story, it was best to move on. So I didn't insist. I just recommended that she take some tests "just in case", which she agreed to do.
So we've effectively moved on. We resumed our routine.
A strange routine, really, where Jennifer continued to go twice a week to Delange's to officially clean, but where we both knew exactly what was going on at those times.
Even though, over time, I came to terms with the fact that my fiancée was going to have sex with our landlord for our common good, I still had a lot of trouble processing it. As soon as I thought about it (and I thought about it all the time during the fateful hours), a big lump came over my stomach and I had to develop treasures of relaxation to calm myself down a little.
In the building, things were no better. I avoided Delange as much as possible, and on the rare occasions we crossed paths, I tried not to look at him because I knew it wouldn't be the landlord I'd be seeing, but the man who'd been screwing my sweetheart every Tuesday morning and Friday night. And I didn't want to visualize him...
But beyond Delange, it was gradually all the tenants in the building that I began to suspect. Irrationally enough, I had the impression that they all suspected something, and that it was they who were looking at me differently, the cuckold of the 6th floor, as they must have called me.
Fortunately, things were going well at home. Jennifer was even conscientiously trying to prove to me in a very factual way that her relationship with Delange had so far changed nothing in our life as a couple and would continue to do so. She was as eager for sex as ever, and even seemed to be asking for more.
And since this situation hadn't dampened my libido at all, on the contrary, the evenings were hot among the young people of the 6th floor.
It all started on the first Friday after the "weekend of revelation": That evening, I was waiting for my darling with bated breath. She no longer had to duck straight for the shower room, but I was determined not to let her.
When she appeared, I immediately detected the clues I'd always ignored until then: Her rosy cheeks, her long hair that had been combed in a hurry, her bright eyes, her shortness of breath... yes, there was no doubt about it, it couldn't all be attributed to walking up five flights of stairs. She did look as if she'd just been fucked.
Finding myself on the way to the bathroom, she hesitated for a moment. With a gesture I reassured her and drew her against me for a fiery kiss.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't searching the taste of her lips for clues as to the exact nature of her very recent guilty occupation. But I found none.
On the other hand, my hand, which quickly ventured under her skirt, undeniably encountered a soggy crotch.
Soggy and sticky.
This realization brought to light a question I hadn't raised since I'd learned:
"By the way, why did you insist on showering here afterwards, at the risk of being caught out like now? Why didn't you shower at his place?
- Well, because this is where I keep all my little things and it's more comfortable this way. Besides, don't you think you'd have found it suspicious to see me coming back from our landlord's house freshly showered? In fact, the proof is that you never asked yourself the question."
She had a point.
But she annoyed me by always having an answer for everything.
"Suck me." I ordered her curtly to put her down.
Her mischievous smile didn't disappear at all.
On the contrary, it widened when, slipping to her knees, she noted the priapic state of my pelvic appendage...
-
Barthvader
- Prepubescent
- Posts: 8
- Joined: Thu Apr 29, 2021 10:41 pm
Re: The Landlord
Just cherish your wife and enjoy the ride.
She wil always be yours, because she loves you.
Let het be herself: the hotwife she became: if you want het for yourself, it's the end of your relation.
She wil always be yours, because she loves you.
Let het be herself: the hotwife she became: if you want het for yourself, it's the end of your relation.
Dutchie who lives in a windmill, surrounded bij a tulipfield wearing klumps.
Re: The Landlord
The following Friday, I awaited her return with some impatience, given the vivid memory of the night of unbridled sex that had followed that first confrontation.
Not that nothing had happened since then, no-no, we'd had our fill of sex over the weekend and the past week, but I now assumed that these "post-Delange" evenings would remain... "Special".
At first, it was a copy-paste of the first scenario: I intercepted her as soon as she entered.
Only this time, I clearly detected a musky, pungent taste on her lips... And my hand didn't encounter the same Amazonian moisture between her thighs. Oh, she was wet, no doubt about it, but not soggy like the week before.
Adding 2+2, I confidently asserted:
"He didn't come in.
- Not that way, no." She replied with a defiant half-smile.
For a moment, I thought she was referring to her mouth... Before the obvious became clear!
My hands slid over her buttocks and my fingers plunged into the furrow to easily find the sticky wetness previously expected.
I looked up at her, her defiant smile still growing. She seemed to be saying, "Well, how about that?"
I said nothing. I acted.
Like a madman, I turned her against the wall.
In the same movement, I rolled up her skirt and unzipped my pants...
I penetrated her like that, all at once.
Never before had I sodomized her so suddenly and so fully.
She screamed. A cry of pain and pleasure.
It was a quick, brutal coitus.
With my hands firmly on her hips, my penis slid perfectly into her anal canal, ideally lubricated by her lover's secretions. My pelvis slammed against her buttocks at a furious pace, and it wasn't long before I was adding my share to her dilated orifice, leaving us breathless and stunned by this impromptu session.
Fortunately, not all our relationships were as wild as this one.
Delange was said to be the champion of long, sensual couplings, but he didn't have a monopoly on them either. I, too, knew how to show gentleness, thoughtfulness and restraint.
Jennifer obviously liked the way we complemented each other, but I didn't want to be pigeonholed as a "young stud who fucks hard and fast".
Quiet periods after lovemaking were often an opportunity for us to talk more openly about our unusual situation. Reassured and serene, Jenny was more inclined to confide in me. I took the opportunity to find out more about their clandestine games.
I learned that Delange, or Léo as she now called him, was a cunnilingus champion, and that he often made a point of making her come under his tongue before any other "introduction". The man had experience and used it to good effect!
Even if I still couldn't get past their age difference, I was beginning to understand why my fiancée had such a crush on him: he was charismatic, rather good-looking, still well-muscled, he knew how to please women and, above all, he knew how to go about it with her.
But the worry was that she might be a little too into him...
So I asked her the fateful question:
"Do you love him?
- Wow! Not an easy question to answer. If the question is "Do I love him like I love you?" the answer is no, of course. I keep telling you, you're my love, the only true love. Now, if the question is "Are there feelings between us?" the answer is undoubtedly yes. Particular feelings... Attachment, for sure..., love perhaps, but then almost filial love. Oh, I know, you're going to give me some psychology because my father ran off when I was a child and I've always had a conflicted relationship with my stepfather. Maybe it's that, maybe it's not, I don't know... it's just the way it is."
I decided to ignore her incestuous notion of filial love. After all, she was right, that's just the way it was and, for the moment, I just had to live with it.
Not that nothing had happened since then, no-no, we'd had our fill of sex over the weekend and the past week, but I now assumed that these "post-Delange" evenings would remain... "Special".
At first, it was a copy-paste of the first scenario: I intercepted her as soon as she entered.
Only this time, I clearly detected a musky, pungent taste on her lips... And my hand didn't encounter the same Amazonian moisture between her thighs. Oh, she was wet, no doubt about it, but not soggy like the week before.
Adding 2+2, I confidently asserted:
"He didn't come in.
- Not that way, no." She replied with a defiant half-smile.
For a moment, I thought she was referring to her mouth... Before the obvious became clear!
My hands slid over her buttocks and my fingers plunged into the furrow to easily find the sticky wetness previously expected.
I looked up at her, her defiant smile still growing. She seemed to be saying, "Well, how about that?"
I said nothing. I acted.
Like a madman, I turned her against the wall.
In the same movement, I rolled up her skirt and unzipped my pants...
I penetrated her like that, all at once.
Never before had I sodomized her so suddenly and so fully.
She screamed. A cry of pain and pleasure.
It was a quick, brutal coitus.
With my hands firmly on her hips, my penis slid perfectly into her anal canal, ideally lubricated by her lover's secretions. My pelvis slammed against her buttocks at a furious pace, and it wasn't long before I was adding my share to her dilated orifice, leaving us breathless and stunned by this impromptu session.
Fortunately, not all our relationships were as wild as this one.
Delange was said to be the champion of long, sensual couplings, but he didn't have a monopoly on them either. I, too, knew how to show gentleness, thoughtfulness and restraint.
Jennifer obviously liked the way we complemented each other, but I didn't want to be pigeonholed as a "young stud who fucks hard and fast".
Quiet periods after lovemaking were often an opportunity for us to talk more openly about our unusual situation. Reassured and serene, Jenny was more inclined to confide in me. I took the opportunity to find out more about their clandestine games.
I learned that Delange, or Léo as she now called him, was a cunnilingus champion, and that he often made a point of making her come under his tongue before any other "introduction". The man had experience and used it to good effect!
Even if I still couldn't get past their age difference, I was beginning to understand why my fiancée had such a crush on him: he was charismatic, rather good-looking, still well-muscled, he knew how to please women and, above all, he knew how to go about it with her.
But the worry was that she might be a little too into him...
So I asked her the fateful question:
"Do you love him?
- Wow! Not an easy question to answer. If the question is "Do I love him like I love you?" the answer is no, of course. I keep telling you, you're my love, the only true love. Now, if the question is "Are there feelings between us?" the answer is undoubtedly yes. Particular feelings... Attachment, for sure..., love perhaps, but then almost filial love. Oh, I know, you're going to give me some psychology because my father ran off when I was a child and I've always had a conflicted relationship with my stepfather. Maybe it's that, maybe it's not, I don't know... it's just the way it is."
I decided to ignore her incestuous notion of filial love. After all, she was right, that's just the way it was and, for the moment, I just had to live with it.
Re: The Landlord
One evening, Jennifer, having just come home, announced to me: "He knows you know.
- Oh shit! I told you not to tell him!
- Hey! I didn't tell him anything! It's just that he guessed. I must say, with your puppy-dog looks and your shifty eyes every time you meet him, it wasn't hard to figure out that there was something wrong with you either. I didn't need to tell him, he picked up on it all by himself.
- Shit! What am I going to do now when I see him? I won't know where to put myself.
- Well, do what he did: act as if nothing had happened.
- It's easier said than done!
Easy to say, indeed. I was already dreading the moment when I'd have to meet his gaze, the gaze that would say "I know you know I'm fucking your wife, what have you got to say to that?" And I could feel that mine would never be able to answer: "I know you're fucking my wife, but don't be too proud because you won't take it to heaven!"
Inevitably, we were going to find ourselves in a dominant/dominated situation from which I could not emerge victorious.
However, it didn't turn out the way I'd feared, and I couldn't decide whether it would be better or worse...
Two days later, we were returning from doing some shopping in town and, no sooner had we arrived in the building's lobby than we were approached by an affable Delange:
"Hello, you two! Do you have some time? I'd like to offer you a drink."
Even though we no longer owed the man anything, we still found it hard not to regard his invitations as summonses. So we followed him home, aware that, given the situation, the drink would only be a pretext to broach a much more sensitive subject. I was beginning to know the man well.
As He preceded us towards His living room, which I was visiting for only the fourth time, I couldn't help thinking that it was here, within these walls, that my fiancée was giving her body and soul to our old landlord. Entering made things even more solid, more real. I was already a little uncomfortable in Delange's presence, but here, in his home, it wasn't going to get any better.
Yet Delange did everything he could to put us at ease. He beckoned me to sit down in the armchair that was usually his, and Jenny settled herself on the sofa opposite.
"What can I get you? Scotch, Bourbon, Gin, Martini, Pastis?"
" - A Scotch will be fine." I replied, still embarrassed.
" - Okay, and you Jennifer, a Martini, as usual? "
" - Yes."
My heart raced. At least it was clear: the use of first name and "as usual" proved that this time, there would be no pretense. We were going to play it straight.
Even so, it still felt strange. Especially as, once everyone had been served, the host sat down in the only strategically vacant seat: The one next to Jen.
This was no longer a vague fantasy. We were no longer in the realm of the slightly hazy imaginary. Seeing him sit beside her and placing a distracted hand on her knee suddenly projected me into a more substantial reality.
Ignoring my confusion, our host began the conversation:
"- Well, David - if you don't mind my calling you David - I wanted to see you both to talk about our little... 'arrangement'... I guessed you understood that it had taken a, how shall I say... unexpected turn over the last few months. Admittedly, I've toyed with you a little, but I understand that you've also toyed with me and my propensity for admiring beautiful female curves.
However, I didn't expect the game to go this far. I thought I'd have a bit of fun and enjoy my good fortune until the limits were reached... Except that the limits I'd imagined were exceeded without the game stopping... I was quite surprised to see that Jennifer had any interest in me at all... then I was surprised by myself when I realized that I felt for your fiancée something other than a simple physical attraction...
This revelation came at poker night with my friends... it's not a memory I'm proud of, really, and I'd like to apologize to you both for it. I don't know what happened. Even if I could claim alcohol abuse, it's not enough to forgive the childish pride I showed that night. But let's not talk about that anymore. If nothing else, that evening made me realize that I really cared about Jennifer... too much to use her as a trophy... and too much to risk losing her. I suppose you understand that."
I nodded slowly, a little intrigued by the speech. I wondered what he was getting at.
What I did understand, however, was that there had been some uncharitable excesses at that famous party, the content of which I could only guess at. My initial fears were reinforced.
He continued: "The final surprise was to learn that, far from being frustrated by the situation, you yourself took a certain interest in it..."
I glared at Jenny. She looked down, a little ashamed.
"No, don't blame her. When I realized you knew about us, I asked her how you reacted and she reassured me by explaining how you managed to find the positive in the situation. You don't have to worry. I'm not judging you. I can even say I understand you: This young woman is so beautiful, so wonderful that if you love her, you'll do anything for her happiness.... Anyway, enough procrastination, to get to our "arrangement". I'd like it to evolve a little... First of all, I'd like to confirm that in view of what happened at the party with my friends, I consider the rent arrears settled, and there will be no more "overtime" of this kind. On the other hand, I understand that despite the absence of rent, your finances are still not in good shape."
" - Indeed. The recovery is painfully slow in coming." I replied laconically. I didn't know Jenny was talking to Delange about this. But perhaps he had deduced it without her explicitly mentioning our difficulties.
"I know what it's like to be young, to want to go out, party or just have a good meal, and to be constantly held back by money. That's why I'm proposing to give you an annuity, a kind of subsidy, of 500 euros per month, to help you realize your desires."
"- In exchange for what?" I was beginning to know the fellow. I knew there would be a demand in return. He didn't even seem surprised by my question.
"Well... Jennifer would continue to come every Tuesday morning and every Friday... however, on Fridays, I'd like her to stay with me for the evening... and the night."
A glance at Jennifer told me that she was unaware of this proposal. Her dismay matched my own.
It took me a good two minutes to recover. Okay, I'd taken the news of my sweetheart's relationship with our landlord pretty well, but this was something else again, another step in that relationship, and not the least.
"I don't know. It's a pretty confusing proposition. Jenny, what do you think?"
She shrugged: "-If it's okay with you, it's okay with me."
This wasn't helping. I tried to think quickly under the questioning gaze of the two lovers, and it wasn't easy.
Clearly, my darling had no problem with sleeping over one night a week, and I could almost bet that she even wanted to. So it was up to me to decide whether I could handle it.
Of course, the financial help wasn't insignificant, but we had to face the facts: it was only intended to pass the buck and give us an alibi. At this point, I was convinced that Jenny would have accepted without any financial compensation. But it was precisely the latter that posed a problem of conscience for me:
"What worries me is that up until now, even if there was a financial agreement between us, it officially only concerned a cleaning activity and there was no exchange of money. I'm afraid that now we're falling into the realm of paid sex, and I don't like that at all."
He nodded.
"You're not wrong, but I can reassure you on this point: Firstly, there's no question of me giving your fiancée a bill every time she gets out of my bed, I could make a monthly transfer into your account; Secondly, it would be an offense to her to believe that four monthly nights would only be worth 500 euros. Jennifer deserves much better than that, I'm sure you'll agree."
He had a point.
He continued:
"- I want to be honest with you: I'm absolutely not looking to 'buy' sexual favors from your companion, I sincerely hope I don't need to" A glance towards Jennifer who shyly opined reassured him on this point. "I simply wish to ensure that the financial aspect is not a hindrance to her happiness, either with me, or with you."
So we continued our surreal discussion, the main subject of which was my sweetheart's extramarital relationship with our landlord, more than 30 years her senior.
Without having formally agreed, my approval in principle was acquired by the time we took leave of our host.
I got up to leave and Jenny did the same. She placed a kiss on my cheek and said:
"- Go on darling, I'll meet you in 30 seconds."
I understood immediately that she was asking for a few moments of intimacy before coming back upstairs with me. So I obeyed obediently and headed for the apartment exit after shaking hands with my "rival".
As I reached the door, I had an impulse, a sudden urge to discreetly retrace my steps and spy on them on the sly. Somewhere deep inside me, there was still the uncertainty (hope?) of thinking that all this was just a vast prank played out at my expense and that nothing was really real. Here was my chance to confound them.
But no, I refrained. I didn't want to catch them in the middle of a fiery embrace. I preferred to leave it all in the realm of the improbable imaginary.
Jenny joined me a moment later as promised, her lipstick a little undone.
- Oh shit! I told you not to tell him!
- Hey! I didn't tell him anything! It's just that he guessed. I must say, with your puppy-dog looks and your shifty eyes every time you meet him, it wasn't hard to figure out that there was something wrong with you either. I didn't need to tell him, he picked up on it all by himself.
- Shit! What am I going to do now when I see him? I won't know where to put myself.
- Well, do what he did: act as if nothing had happened.
- It's easier said than done!
Easy to say, indeed. I was already dreading the moment when I'd have to meet his gaze, the gaze that would say "I know you know I'm fucking your wife, what have you got to say to that?" And I could feel that mine would never be able to answer: "I know you're fucking my wife, but don't be too proud because you won't take it to heaven!"
Inevitably, we were going to find ourselves in a dominant/dominated situation from which I could not emerge victorious.
However, it didn't turn out the way I'd feared, and I couldn't decide whether it would be better or worse...
Two days later, we were returning from doing some shopping in town and, no sooner had we arrived in the building's lobby than we were approached by an affable Delange:
"Hello, you two! Do you have some time? I'd like to offer you a drink."
Even though we no longer owed the man anything, we still found it hard not to regard his invitations as summonses. So we followed him home, aware that, given the situation, the drink would only be a pretext to broach a much more sensitive subject. I was beginning to know the man well.
As He preceded us towards His living room, which I was visiting for only the fourth time, I couldn't help thinking that it was here, within these walls, that my fiancée was giving her body and soul to our old landlord. Entering made things even more solid, more real. I was already a little uncomfortable in Delange's presence, but here, in his home, it wasn't going to get any better.
Yet Delange did everything he could to put us at ease. He beckoned me to sit down in the armchair that was usually his, and Jenny settled herself on the sofa opposite.
"What can I get you? Scotch, Bourbon, Gin, Martini, Pastis?"
" - A Scotch will be fine." I replied, still embarrassed.
" - Okay, and you Jennifer, a Martini, as usual? "
" - Yes."
My heart raced. At least it was clear: the use of first name and "as usual" proved that this time, there would be no pretense. We were going to play it straight.
Even so, it still felt strange. Especially as, once everyone had been served, the host sat down in the only strategically vacant seat: The one next to Jen.
This was no longer a vague fantasy. We were no longer in the realm of the slightly hazy imaginary. Seeing him sit beside her and placing a distracted hand on her knee suddenly projected me into a more substantial reality.
Ignoring my confusion, our host began the conversation:
"- Well, David - if you don't mind my calling you David - I wanted to see you both to talk about our little... 'arrangement'... I guessed you understood that it had taken a, how shall I say... unexpected turn over the last few months. Admittedly, I've toyed with you a little, but I understand that you've also toyed with me and my propensity for admiring beautiful female curves.
However, I didn't expect the game to go this far. I thought I'd have a bit of fun and enjoy my good fortune until the limits were reached... Except that the limits I'd imagined were exceeded without the game stopping... I was quite surprised to see that Jennifer had any interest in me at all... then I was surprised by myself when I realized that I felt for your fiancée something other than a simple physical attraction...
This revelation came at poker night with my friends... it's not a memory I'm proud of, really, and I'd like to apologize to you both for it. I don't know what happened. Even if I could claim alcohol abuse, it's not enough to forgive the childish pride I showed that night. But let's not talk about that anymore. If nothing else, that evening made me realize that I really cared about Jennifer... too much to use her as a trophy... and too much to risk losing her. I suppose you understand that."
I nodded slowly, a little intrigued by the speech. I wondered what he was getting at.
What I did understand, however, was that there had been some uncharitable excesses at that famous party, the content of which I could only guess at. My initial fears were reinforced.
He continued: "The final surprise was to learn that, far from being frustrated by the situation, you yourself took a certain interest in it..."
I glared at Jenny. She looked down, a little ashamed.
"No, don't blame her. When I realized you knew about us, I asked her how you reacted and she reassured me by explaining how you managed to find the positive in the situation. You don't have to worry. I'm not judging you. I can even say I understand you: This young woman is so beautiful, so wonderful that if you love her, you'll do anything for her happiness.... Anyway, enough procrastination, to get to our "arrangement". I'd like it to evolve a little... First of all, I'd like to confirm that in view of what happened at the party with my friends, I consider the rent arrears settled, and there will be no more "overtime" of this kind. On the other hand, I understand that despite the absence of rent, your finances are still not in good shape."
" - Indeed. The recovery is painfully slow in coming." I replied laconically. I didn't know Jenny was talking to Delange about this. But perhaps he had deduced it without her explicitly mentioning our difficulties.
"I know what it's like to be young, to want to go out, party or just have a good meal, and to be constantly held back by money. That's why I'm proposing to give you an annuity, a kind of subsidy, of 500 euros per month, to help you realize your desires."
"- In exchange for what?" I was beginning to know the fellow. I knew there would be a demand in return. He didn't even seem surprised by my question.
"Well... Jennifer would continue to come every Tuesday morning and every Friday... however, on Fridays, I'd like her to stay with me for the evening... and the night."
A glance at Jennifer told me that she was unaware of this proposal. Her dismay matched my own.
It took me a good two minutes to recover. Okay, I'd taken the news of my sweetheart's relationship with our landlord pretty well, but this was something else again, another step in that relationship, and not the least.
"I don't know. It's a pretty confusing proposition. Jenny, what do you think?"
She shrugged: "-If it's okay with you, it's okay with me."
This wasn't helping. I tried to think quickly under the questioning gaze of the two lovers, and it wasn't easy.
Clearly, my darling had no problem with sleeping over one night a week, and I could almost bet that she even wanted to. So it was up to me to decide whether I could handle it.
Of course, the financial help wasn't insignificant, but we had to face the facts: it was only intended to pass the buck and give us an alibi. At this point, I was convinced that Jenny would have accepted without any financial compensation. But it was precisely the latter that posed a problem of conscience for me:
"What worries me is that up until now, even if there was a financial agreement between us, it officially only concerned a cleaning activity and there was no exchange of money. I'm afraid that now we're falling into the realm of paid sex, and I don't like that at all."
He nodded.
"You're not wrong, but I can reassure you on this point: Firstly, there's no question of me giving your fiancée a bill every time she gets out of my bed, I could make a monthly transfer into your account; Secondly, it would be an offense to her to believe that four monthly nights would only be worth 500 euros. Jennifer deserves much better than that, I'm sure you'll agree."
He had a point.
He continued:
"- I want to be honest with you: I'm absolutely not looking to 'buy' sexual favors from your companion, I sincerely hope I don't need to" A glance towards Jennifer who shyly opined reassured him on this point. "I simply wish to ensure that the financial aspect is not a hindrance to her happiness, either with me, or with you."
So we continued our surreal discussion, the main subject of which was my sweetheart's extramarital relationship with our landlord, more than 30 years her senior.
Without having formally agreed, my approval in principle was acquired by the time we took leave of our host.
I got up to leave and Jenny did the same. She placed a kiss on my cheek and said:
"- Go on darling, I'll meet you in 30 seconds."
I understood immediately that she was asking for a few moments of intimacy before coming back upstairs with me. So I obeyed obediently and headed for the apartment exit after shaking hands with my "rival".
As I reached the door, I had an impulse, a sudden urge to discreetly retrace my steps and spy on them on the sly. Somewhere deep inside me, there was still the uncertainty (hope?) of thinking that all this was just a vast prank played out at my expense and that nothing was really real. Here was my chance to confound them.
But no, I refrained. I didn't want to catch them in the middle of a fiery embrace. I preferred to leave it all in the realm of the improbable imaginary.
Jenny joined me a moment later as promised, her lipstick a little undone.
-
Sergio2701
- Prepubescent
- Posts: 4
- Joined: Sun Sep 11, 2022 8:27 am
Re: The Landlord
Very soon they won't be staying at his house on Friday nights. He will take her to expensive restaurants, dancing, hotels. He will introduce her to his family as his lover. He will buy her expensive clothes and jewelry. You can start preparing to lose her.
Re: The Landlord
Interesting to see how the new deal will affect their life.
Waiting for the next chapter.
Waiting for the next chapter.
When you are lying of your death bed, you only regret the things you did not do.
The most beautiful woman in the world is the woman lying naked and sweaty next to me.
The most beautiful woman in the world is the woman lying naked and sweaty next to me.
Re: The Landlord
Yet another intriguing and well written chapter.Thank you for sharing this with us.
Re: The Landlord
poor hubby, she has him so duped !