Thank you for your comment
I know my French is a bit literary, I didn't know if it would work in English.
The Landlord
Re: The Landlord
As the weeks and months went by, Jennifer seemed more and more at ease in her new life.
Although she would only confide in me sparingly about her work, always arguing that there was nothing exciting to talk about, I sensed that she was more relaxed, more comfortable with the idea of doing the housework to help our couple.
As she had predicted, participating financially in the joint budget made her less beholden to me, and she appreciated this "rebalancing of forces".
This was all the more obvious as things were still not taking off on my side.
However, when I came home from work on a Wednesday evening, I found her much less cheerful than usual... almost anxious.
"What's the matter, darling? Something wrong at college?"
She began by denying it, by assuring me that things were fine, but I could see that no, they weren't. There was something bothering her, but as long as she wasn't willing to let it go, I wasn't going to get anything out of this pretty mule-head.
So I waited, knowing that sooner or later, she'd get rid of the thing that was so obviously bothering her.
And it didn't take long: at the end of the quietest of dinners, she attacked outright:
" Honey, I'm late."
I knew right away what she was talking about, but I couldn't help asking stupidly:
"What do you mean, you're late?"
"I'm late, that's clear! I'm two days late, I should have had my period the day before yesterday."
" - Two days? And that's serious?"
From her furious look, I could see that my delaying tactics to give myself a little respite to assimilate the news were starting to seriously exasperate her:
"Don't you want to understand? I've been like a Swiss clock since I was 14! For almost 10 years now, every fourth Monday, bam! It happens. You're in a good position to know that, aren't you?
Of course, it was true. For as long as I could remember, her periods of indisposition came with the regularity of a metronome.
"Did you forget to take your pill this month?
" - No... I'm sure I didn't. "
" - Well then! Don't worry. Maybe it's just stress, with your studies, your new job... stuff like that."
She didn't answer. I could feel that my rational explanation only half satisfied her.
"- If I'm pregnant, it's a catastrophe."
Contrary to what we'd assured Mr. Delange, we'd never really discussed the possibility of having a baby. As long as Jennifer still had her studies to complete, it simply wasn't on the agenda. But after that, it wasn't taboo either. Even though we were still young, it seemed obvious to me that sooner or later, and maybe sooner rather than later, it was going to happen. Jennifer was the woman in my life, I was the man in hers, we weren't going to wait until we were 40 to think about starting a family!
Even so, I understood that the news of an early pregnancy and all that went with it didn't make my partner very happy.
As for me, it was so unexpected that I didn't even know what to make of it.
However, I had to comfort her:
"- Listen, don't exaggerate, it wouldn't be as bad as all that."
"- You don't realize... a catastrophe..." she repeated thoughtfully.
" - But no! You wouldn't be the first to finish your studies with a big balloon, you know. These days, it's not as frowned upon as it used to be."
" - But that's not it!" she replied, annoyed "it's Delange."
" - What about Delange? What's he doing here?"
She gave me a confused look, as if suddenly realizing what she'd just told me. She stammered:
"He said he didn't want young couples with children in his building because they make a mess and noise... He could fire me and tell us to get the hell out!
I burst out laughing:
" If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that he's far too addicted to your pretty gams and that you're doing him far too many favors to let you go on such a futile pretext. Don't worry about it... Besides, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have the right.
Come on, don't get your hopes up. You don't even know if you're pregnant, so stop. First thing tomorrow, we're going to buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy and if it's positive, we'll see, okay?"
She nodded weakly.
For the rest of the evening, I forced myself to appear cheerful and relaxed so that she would stop worrying. I don't know if I really succeeded, and I can't swear to the serenity of her sleep that night.
But when she woke up the next morning, the reds had come.
From the radiant smile that contrasted so sharply with her anxious face the day before, it was clear that Jennifer was extremely relieved. I had no idea she was so embarrassed about the subject and wondered what it would be like when she actually got pregnant.
But hey, no need to get hammered. We'll see when the time comes.
In any case, one thing's for sure: once the period of indisposition was over, the radada sessions with my darling became even more torrid. It's as if the warning had triggered a realization in her; as if she'd suddenly realized that she should enjoy it as long as there were no consequences.
I couldn't say I disliked it.
Although she would only confide in me sparingly about her work, always arguing that there was nothing exciting to talk about, I sensed that she was more relaxed, more comfortable with the idea of doing the housework to help our couple.
As she had predicted, participating financially in the joint budget made her less beholden to me, and she appreciated this "rebalancing of forces".
This was all the more obvious as things were still not taking off on my side.
However, when I came home from work on a Wednesday evening, I found her much less cheerful than usual... almost anxious.
"What's the matter, darling? Something wrong at college?"
She began by denying it, by assuring me that things were fine, but I could see that no, they weren't. There was something bothering her, but as long as she wasn't willing to let it go, I wasn't going to get anything out of this pretty mule-head.
So I waited, knowing that sooner or later, she'd get rid of the thing that was so obviously bothering her.
And it didn't take long: at the end of the quietest of dinners, she attacked outright:
" Honey, I'm late."
I knew right away what she was talking about, but I couldn't help asking stupidly:
"What do you mean, you're late?"
"I'm late, that's clear! I'm two days late, I should have had my period the day before yesterday."
" - Two days? And that's serious?"
From her furious look, I could see that my delaying tactics to give myself a little respite to assimilate the news were starting to seriously exasperate her:
"Don't you want to understand? I've been like a Swiss clock since I was 14! For almost 10 years now, every fourth Monday, bam! It happens. You're in a good position to know that, aren't you?
Of course, it was true. For as long as I could remember, her periods of indisposition came with the regularity of a metronome.
"Did you forget to take your pill this month?
" - No... I'm sure I didn't. "
" - Well then! Don't worry. Maybe it's just stress, with your studies, your new job... stuff like that."
She didn't answer. I could feel that my rational explanation only half satisfied her.
"- If I'm pregnant, it's a catastrophe."
Contrary to what we'd assured Mr. Delange, we'd never really discussed the possibility of having a baby. As long as Jennifer still had her studies to complete, it simply wasn't on the agenda. But after that, it wasn't taboo either. Even though we were still young, it seemed obvious to me that sooner or later, and maybe sooner rather than later, it was going to happen. Jennifer was the woman in my life, I was the man in hers, we weren't going to wait until we were 40 to think about starting a family!
Even so, I understood that the news of an early pregnancy and all that went with it didn't make my partner very happy.
As for me, it was so unexpected that I didn't even know what to make of it.
However, I had to comfort her:
"- Listen, don't exaggerate, it wouldn't be as bad as all that."
"- You don't realize... a catastrophe..." she repeated thoughtfully.
" - But no! You wouldn't be the first to finish your studies with a big balloon, you know. These days, it's not as frowned upon as it used to be."
" - But that's not it!" she replied, annoyed "it's Delange."
" - What about Delange? What's he doing here?"
She gave me a confused look, as if suddenly realizing what she'd just told me. She stammered:
"He said he didn't want young couples with children in his building because they make a mess and noise... He could fire me and tell us to get the hell out!
I burst out laughing:
" If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that he's far too addicted to your pretty gams and that you're doing him far too many favors to let you go on such a futile pretext. Don't worry about it... Besides, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have the right.
Come on, don't get your hopes up. You don't even know if you're pregnant, so stop. First thing tomorrow, we're going to buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy and if it's positive, we'll see, okay?"
She nodded weakly.
For the rest of the evening, I forced myself to appear cheerful and relaxed so that she would stop worrying. I don't know if I really succeeded, and I can't swear to the serenity of her sleep that night.
But when she woke up the next morning, the reds had come.
From the radiant smile that contrasted so sharply with her anxious face the day before, it was clear that Jennifer was extremely relieved. I had no idea she was so embarrassed about the subject and wondered what it would be like when she actually got pregnant.
But hey, no need to get hammered. We'll see when the time comes.
In any case, one thing's for sure: once the period of indisposition was over, the radada sessions with my darling became even more torrid. It's as if the warning had triggered a realization in her; as if she'd suddenly realized that she should enjoy it as long as there were no consequences.
I couldn't say I disliked it.
Re: The Landlord
Strangely enough, it was often on the days she went to work at Delange's that she was the most enterprising.
I'd already thought to myself that, even if she'd never admit it, she got a kick out of knowing that the owner had it in for her, and this strange correlation only confirmed my suspicions.
At the same time, I had to admit that, as I moved back and forth between her thighs, the idea of her gradually revealing herself to her voyeuristic employer had a clear tendency to strengthen my erection and at the same time, unfortunately, to hasten the arrival of my climax.
Then, one Tuesday evening, while we were engaged in some good-natured doggy style, she pulled out, took hold of my impatient member and, for the first time in our married life, redirected it two centimetres higher... towards an orifice it had never visited...
Even though it had long been one of my fantasies, I never forced sodomy on my sweetheart. I knew that for women, it's not always an easy step to take, sometimes painful, not to mention taboo, so some never resign themselves to it.
I didn't want to traumatize Jenny. Even though I'm far from being a monster in terms of size, I wanted to leave it up to her whether or not to take this step. I didn't want her to feel obliged to do it just for my pleasure.
And it seemed that, for her, the time had come...
Surprisingly, and contrary to my fears, I entered her quite easily and her hitherto inviolate sphincter swallowed my glans without triggering any complaints from my darling.
Even better! She let out a contented sigh: "Oh yes! That's good!"
So I kept pushing, thrusting my member deep into her rectum as she accompanied this first intromission with encouraging moans.
Fatefully, it didn't take me much back-and-forth in this brand-new playground to get to the brink of explosion... hardly more than three or four, in fact.
Luckily for me, Jenny was on the same wavelength, screaming with pleasure at the very moment I released myself into her welcoming bowels.
" Wow! There's something to regret not having tried it before, eh?!" I said, collapsing beside her.
She nodded with a breathless chuckle.
I didn't ask her what had made her take the plunge.
In any case, I think she would have replied that it had just come to her, a desire to do it there and then.
In any case, once again, it wasn't to my displeasure and it's a practice we've repeated many times since then, since we were both fond of it.
***
Jennifer's ritual was fun, but it ended up bothering me too.
There was something worrying about the way she systematically ran to the bathroom, put her clothes in the wash and showered on her way back from Delange's. I could understand her need to feel clean after her cleaning session, but there was no urgency about washing her clothes.
Of course, I understood her need to feel clean after her maid session, but there was no rush to wash her clothes; she could just as easily wait or use a new one the next time.
This eagerness to erase all traces of her passage through the owner's home was, if not suspicious, at least disturbing.
Now that I knew the man's pedigree and his liking for pretty curves, I began to wonder whether he wasn't taking advantage of my darling's goodwill to obtain more... intimate favors.
Even if, given the age difference, I saw no reason for jealousy, I hoped the man wasn't taking advantage of the situation to overstep the bounds of propriety.
I was still convinced that he couldn't hurt her very much, physically speaking, but I didn't want him to force her to do "things" against her will either.
And by "things", I wasn't quite sure what I meant: psychological coercion, fondling, touching... more? I had no idea.
What I did know, however, was that every time I tried to imagine what might be going on behind those walls in my absence, I couldn't repress a whole series of rather imperious physiological reactions: sweating, accelerated heart rate, a lump in my stomach, an erection... symptomatic of ambiguous feelings: I was both repulsed and excited, yet ashamed of being so.
On several occasions, I broached the subject with Jennifer, asking her if Delange was crossing the line. Each time, she assured me he wasn't.
So much so that I came up with another explanation: since she seemed so eager for sex on the way back from his place, it was just as possible that her ritual had no other purpose than to hide from me how much this situation excited her. Perhaps it was simply that she was ashamed of feeling aroused by working in a skimpy outfit in front of an old man.
So I tried this angle of attack too, trying to get her talking by showing her that, for my part, I didn't have a problem with it.
Even if she never admitted it, the little smile she sometimes flashed when I broached the subject probably spoke louder than her natural reserve.
The problem was that this kind of discussion inevitably ended in a torrid sex session during which I tried my best not to think about my fiancée with our landlord or my fiancée thinking about our landlord...
But was that really a problem?
I'd already thought to myself that, even if she'd never admit it, she got a kick out of knowing that the owner had it in for her, and this strange correlation only confirmed my suspicions.
At the same time, I had to admit that, as I moved back and forth between her thighs, the idea of her gradually revealing herself to her voyeuristic employer had a clear tendency to strengthen my erection and at the same time, unfortunately, to hasten the arrival of my climax.
Then, one Tuesday evening, while we were engaged in some good-natured doggy style, she pulled out, took hold of my impatient member and, for the first time in our married life, redirected it two centimetres higher... towards an orifice it had never visited...
Even though it had long been one of my fantasies, I never forced sodomy on my sweetheart. I knew that for women, it's not always an easy step to take, sometimes painful, not to mention taboo, so some never resign themselves to it.
I didn't want to traumatize Jenny. Even though I'm far from being a monster in terms of size, I wanted to leave it up to her whether or not to take this step. I didn't want her to feel obliged to do it just for my pleasure.
And it seemed that, for her, the time had come...
Surprisingly, and contrary to my fears, I entered her quite easily and her hitherto inviolate sphincter swallowed my glans without triggering any complaints from my darling.
Even better! She let out a contented sigh: "Oh yes! That's good!"
So I kept pushing, thrusting my member deep into her rectum as she accompanied this first intromission with encouraging moans.
Fatefully, it didn't take me much back-and-forth in this brand-new playground to get to the brink of explosion... hardly more than three or four, in fact.
Luckily for me, Jenny was on the same wavelength, screaming with pleasure at the very moment I released myself into her welcoming bowels.
" Wow! There's something to regret not having tried it before, eh?!" I said, collapsing beside her.
She nodded with a breathless chuckle.
I didn't ask her what had made her take the plunge.
In any case, I think she would have replied that it had just come to her, a desire to do it there and then.
In any case, once again, it wasn't to my displeasure and it's a practice we've repeated many times since then, since we were both fond of it.
***
Jennifer's ritual was fun, but it ended up bothering me too.
There was something worrying about the way she systematically ran to the bathroom, put her clothes in the wash and showered on her way back from Delange's. I could understand her need to feel clean after her cleaning session, but there was no urgency about washing her clothes.
Of course, I understood her need to feel clean after her maid session, but there was no rush to wash her clothes; she could just as easily wait or use a new one the next time.
This eagerness to erase all traces of her passage through the owner's home was, if not suspicious, at least disturbing.
Now that I knew the man's pedigree and his liking for pretty curves, I began to wonder whether he wasn't taking advantage of my darling's goodwill to obtain more... intimate favors.
Even if, given the age difference, I saw no reason for jealousy, I hoped the man wasn't taking advantage of the situation to overstep the bounds of propriety.
I was still convinced that he couldn't hurt her very much, physically speaking, but I didn't want him to force her to do "things" against her will either.
And by "things", I wasn't quite sure what I meant: psychological coercion, fondling, touching... more? I had no idea.
What I did know, however, was that every time I tried to imagine what might be going on behind those walls in my absence, I couldn't repress a whole series of rather imperious physiological reactions: sweating, accelerated heart rate, a lump in my stomach, an erection... symptomatic of ambiguous feelings: I was both repulsed and excited, yet ashamed of being so.
On several occasions, I broached the subject with Jennifer, asking her if Delange was crossing the line. Each time, she assured me he wasn't.
So much so that I came up with another explanation: since she seemed so eager for sex on the way back from his place, it was just as possible that her ritual had no other purpose than to hide from me how much this situation excited her. Perhaps it was simply that she was ashamed of feeling aroused by working in a skimpy outfit in front of an old man.
So I tried this angle of attack too, trying to get her talking by showing her that, for my part, I didn't have a problem with it.
Even if she never admitted it, the little smile she sometimes flashed when I broached the subject probably spoke louder than her natural reserve.
The problem was that this kind of discussion inevitably ended in a torrid sex session during which I tried my best not to think about my fiancée with our landlord or my fiancée thinking about our landlord...
But was that really a problem?
Re: The Landlord
Welcome back. I'm loving the slow burn of your story.
Re: The Landlord
Glad you like it !
Re: The Landlord
This state of affairs changed, however, when one evening Jenny announced in an embarrassed voice that Mr. Delange had suggested she stop wearing underwear when she came to work for him.
Strangely enough, my first reaction was to realize that I'd been expecting this announcement and that, in fact, I'd been anticipating it much earlier.
And yes, given what the owner had told me on the day he'd made his proposal, it was obvious to me, even if I'd always wanted to keep it quiet, that he'd come back sooner or later.
And so today was the day.
"So what are you going to do about it?" I asked him in as neutral a tone as possible.
"- Well... I don't know... what do you think I should do?"
Once again, I had to wrestle with my conflicting feelings:
"- I don't know... You... you do as you like... And in any case... he can't force you... Afterwards... it's up to you... if you feel like it... "
"I don't know... but I can't see myself refusing him... After all, it's not as if he's never seen anything..."
This last sentence struck a chord in my heart. It reminded me that my darling had already had the opportunity to stealthily reveal her charms to our landlord with full knowledge of the facts.
But that wasn't all: she also revealed the cruelly obvious: if Jennifer no longer wore underwear, it wouldn't be to make herself feel more comfortable or to tease her employer, no, the aim of the maneuver, the unofficial but openly admitted goal of both parties, would be to knowingly and regularly expose parts of her anatomy which, normally, should only be revealed in the restricted context of a couple's relationship. And then we would no longer be in the realm of fantasy, but of raw reality.
Did I feel capable of putting up with this? I wasn't so sure.
***
The following Tuesday, Jennifer left for work without panties or a bra.
Even though she'd lengthened her skirt slightly for the occasion, I didn't feel comfortable leaving her like that at Delange's door.
The kiss we exchanged was undoubtedly more tense than usual.
As on her first day at work, I couldn't resist asking her mid-morning:
"- Are you okay?"
" - Yes, perfect. "
"- No worries?"
" - No, none, don't worry my love. "
" - And... did he see? "
" - Oh yes, without a doubt!"
" - Meaning? "
" - I'll tell you about it tonight. Kisses my love, I've got to go, I'm already late."
There, I was no further ahead and now I'd have to wait until the end of the day for more details. A real torture!
At least her tone had reassured me. She seemed serene, calm. Showing intimate parts of her body to her employer didn't seem to have disturbed her... at least not as much as it had me.
In the evening, she told me how Delange had arranged for her to work at height and had placed himself in strategic positions to get the best views.
This guy was quite a peeper!
"- And he didn't touch you?"
" - No, just devoured me with his eyes, as usual."
She seemed rather amused by all this, Jennifer, no doubt reassured precisely by the fact that he hadn't touched her.
I was reassured too... but also wildly excited. I was doing my best to hide the huge erection straining my pants.
That evening, I took her wildly.
Strangely enough, my first reaction was to realize that I'd been expecting this announcement and that, in fact, I'd been anticipating it much earlier.
And yes, given what the owner had told me on the day he'd made his proposal, it was obvious to me, even if I'd always wanted to keep it quiet, that he'd come back sooner or later.
And so today was the day.
"So what are you going to do about it?" I asked him in as neutral a tone as possible.
"- Well... I don't know... what do you think I should do?"
Once again, I had to wrestle with my conflicting feelings:
"- I don't know... You... you do as you like... And in any case... he can't force you... Afterwards... it's up to you... if you feel like it... "
"I don't know... but I can't see myself refusing him... After all, it's not as if he's never seen anything..."
This last sentence struck a chord in my heart. It reminded me that my darling had already had the opportunity to stealthily reveal her charms to our landlord with full knowledge of the facts.
But that wasn't all: she also revealed the cruelly obvious: if Jennifer no longer wore underwear, it wouldn't be to make herself feel more comfortable or to tease her employer, no, the aim of the maneuver, the unofficial but openly admitted goal of both parties, would be to knowingly and regularly expose parts of her anatomy which, normally, should only be revealed in the restricted context of a couple's relationship. And then we would no longer be in the realm of fantasy, but of raw reality.
Did I feel capable of putting up with this? I wasn't so sure.
***
The following Tuesday, Jennifer left for work without panties or a bra.
Even though she'd lengthened her skirt slightly for the occasion, I didn't feel comfortable leaving her like that at Delange's door.
The kiss we exchanged was undoubtedly more tense than usual.
As on her first day at work, I couldn't resist asking her mid-morning:
"- Are you okay?"
" - Yes, perfect. "
"- No worries?"
" - No, none, don't worry my love. "
" - And... did he see? "
" - Oh yes, without a doubt!"
" - Meaning? "
" - I'll tell you about it tonight. Kisses my love, I've got to go, I'm already late."
There, I was no further ahead and now I'd have to wait until the end of the day for more details. A real torture!
At least her tone had reassured me. She seemed serene, calm. Showing intimate parts of her body to her employer didn't seem to have disturbed her... at least not as much as it had me.
In the evening, she told me how Delange had arranged for her to work at height and had placed himself in strategic positions to get the best views.
This guy was quite a peeper!
"- And he didn't touch you?"
" - No, just devoured me with his eyes, as usual."
She seemed rather amused by all this, Jennifer, no doubt reassured precisely by the fact that he hadn't touched her.
I was reassured too... but also wildly excited. I was doing my best to hide the huge erection straining my pants.
That evening, I took her wildly.
Re: The Landlord
The heat continues !
Re: The Landlord
fabulous story with fabulous potential..........!!
Re: The Landlord
The next few days were no different from the first. Jenny was telling me how she was chastely showing off to her boss, who was having a field day.
She seemed to take more and more pleasure in it, and I discovered an exhibitionist side to her that I hadn't suspected.
It always put me in a state I couldn't imagine, and it was a rather intense period in our married life.
One Tuesday evening, we went to bed early at Madame's request, as she seemed to have some naughty desires...
She hadn't left it to anyone else to undress me, and while I hadn't yet been allowed to touch her, I found myself lying on the bed, completely naked, my little fiancee lovingly cuddling my three-piece service. A situation I particularly enjoyed.
All it took was a few expertly administered licks for a most convincing sting to emerge in her hand.
And then, innocently continuing to kiss my glans, she announced:
"Today, he touched me."
My heart immediately leapt into my chest.
I could have said "What?!", "What do you mean?" or "What are you talking about?", but I knew exactly what she was talking about.
Our eyes met; her hand still shod on my penis, she wore an enigmatic half-smile.
"Tell me about it", I asked her laconically.
We were on the same wavelength, and she complied without wavering.
"This morning, he asked me to clean a large painting. To do so, I had to unhook it from its wall mount. As it was rather imposing and heavy, he positioned himself behind me as I climbed onto the stepladder, to assure me in case I lost my balance, he told me... I wasn't surprised more than that, I'm used to his little maneuvers, barely fine, so he could check me out... Only as I carefully descended holding the painting, which weighed a dead horse's weight, I felt his hands on my hips. "Careful," he said.
I replied, "I've got it, I've got it", but he didn't take his hands away, and I don't know how he did it, but when I bent my leg to go down one step, his right hand ended up on my thigh, and on the next step it went up again, but under my skirt..."
"- Under your skirt? You mean..."
" - On my butt, yes-yes, you've got it. And since I haven't been wearing panties for a few weeks, I don't need to draw you a picture."
Not worth it, no, indeed. Heart pounding, I imagined the old man's hand greedily groping my darling's bare buttock, tasting with full palm the indescribable softness of her skin there.
I swallowed with some difficulty:
"- Did you let him?"
She gave me a casual look back:
" - Ah, yes. What did you want me to do? I wasn't going to slap him back when I've been walking around almost naked in front of him for weeks... it was bound to happen one day... and anyway, my hands were full."
She was right. I too suspected that sooner or later the old perv wouldn't be satisfied with just watching.
"- Did it last long?"
" - Quite a while, yes. I found myself there, holding the painting while he caressed my ass without saying a word but taking all his time... As I still had one foot on a step, he could easily slip his fingers into my parting... He quickly titillated my little puck then moved forward... I felt fingers on my slit... spreading it... then another one going in... "
"- You mean he..."
" - Fingered me? Yes, you could say that... And rather well, in fact... I could feel his thick finger making little back-and-forth movements... not very deep but well applied... then I felt a second one join the first..."
She fell silent, staring into space, looking dreamy.
"What did it do to you?" I asked, trembling.
"What did it do to me? Well... pretty much the same thing it did to you." She replied, showing me her wrist and hand, stained with opalescent streaks...
Throughout her narration, she had continued to wank me with an absent gesture.
And, without really realizing it, I had just cum.
As she wiped her hand with a handkerchief, I caught a small smile at the corner of her lips and light dawned on me:
"- You've been telling me crap!"
She burst out laughing:
"Do you think I'm capable of making this stuff up?
"Oh yes! Absolutely! You know it turns me on to know you're with him, and you had fun pushing the button to find out how far my fantasies could go."
She still had a broad smile on her lips:
"And obviously I've hit the nail on the head," she said victoriously.
"Ahh! So you confess?! You made it all up!
"If you don't believe what I've told you, that's your problem. I know what happened today... "
That bitch! With her snide look, she knew how to make me squirm.
As a result, I didn't know whether her story was bacon or pork.
"Come on! Come on! Tell me if it's true or not. I'm not going to be able to stay in the dark like this!"
"Nah, too bad for you. That'll be your punishment for letting your little wife go to work pantless at her old landlord's... for now, you've got a mission ahead of you: restore the balance: you've already come and I haven't."
In two seconds, she stripped naked and settled astride me, offering her sex to my eager mouth.
I still didn't know whether her story was real or pure fiction. What I did know, however, was that he was as turned on by it as I was: She was dripping!
She seemed to take more and more pleasure in it, and I discovered an exhibitionist side to her that I hadn't suspected.
It always put me in a state I couldn't imagine, and it was a rather intense period in our married life.
One Tuesday evening, we went to bed early at Madame's request, as she seemed to have some naughty desires...
She hadn't left it to anyone else to undress me, and while I hadn't yet been allowed to touch her, I found myself lying on the bed, completely naked, my little fiancee lovingly cuddling my three-piece service. A situation I particularly enjoyed.
All it took was a few expertly administered licks for a most convincing sting to emerge in her hand.
And then, innocently continuing to kiss my glans, she announced:
"Today, he touched me."
My heart immediately leapt into my chest.
I could have said "What?!", "What do you mean?" or "What are you talking about?", but I knew exactly what she was talking about.
Our eyes met; her hand still shod on my penis, she wore an enigmatic half-smile.
"Tell me about it", I asked her laconically.
We were on the same wavelength, and she complied without wavering.
"This morning, he asked me to clean a large painting. To do so, I had to unhook it from its wall mount. As it was rather imposing and heavy, he positioned himself behind me as I climbed onto the stepladder, to assure me in case I lost my balance, he told me... I wasn't surprised more than that, I'm used to his little maneuvers, barely fine, so he could check me out... Only as I carefully descended holding the painting, which weighed a dead horse's weight, I felt his hands on my hips. "Careful," he said.
I replied, "I've got it, I've got it", but he didn't take his hands away, and I don't know how he did it, but when I bent my leg to go down one step, his right hand ended up on my thigh, and on the next step it went up again, but under my skirt..."
"- Under your skirt? You mean..."
" - On my butt, yes-yes, you've got it. And since I haven't been wearing panties for a few weeks, I don't need to draw you a picture."
Not worth it, no, indeed. Heart pounding, I imagined the old man's hand greedily groping my darling's bare buttock, tasting with full palm the indescribable softness of her skin there.
I swallowed with some difficulty:
"- Did you let him?"
She gave me a casual look back:
" - Ah, yes. What did you want me to do? I wasn't going to slap him back when I've been walking around almost naked in front of him for weeks... it was bound to happen one day... and anyway, my hands were full."
She was right. I too suspected that sooner or later the old perv wouldn't be satisfied with just watching.
"- Did it last long?"
" - Quite a while, yes. I found myself there, holding the painting while he caressed my ass without saying a word but taking all his time... As I still had one foot on a step, he could easily slip his fingers into my parting... He quickly titillated my little puck then moved forward... I felt fingers on my slit... spreading it... then another one going in... "
"- You mean he..."
" - Fingered me? Yes, you could say that... And rather well, in fact... I could feel his thick finger making little back-and-forth movements... not very deep but well applied... then I felt a second one join the first..."
She fell silent, staring into space, looking dreamy.
"What did it do to you?" I asked, trembling.
"What did it do to me? Well... pretty much the same thing it did to you." She replied, showing me her wrist and hand, stained with opalescent streaks...
Throughout her narration, she had continued to wank me with an absent gesture.
And, without really realizing it, I had just cum.
As she wiped her hand with a handkerchief, I caught a small smile at the corner of her lips and light dawned on me:
"- You've been telling me crap!"
She burst out laughing:
"Do you think I'm capable of making this stuff up?
"Oh yes! Absolutely! You know it turns me on to know you're with him, and you had fun pushing the button to find out how far my fantasies could go."
She still had a broad smile on her lips:
"And obviously I've hit the nail on the head," she said victoriously.
"Ahh! So you confess?! You made it all up!
"If you don't believe what I've told you, that's your problem. I know what happened today... "
That bitch! With her snide look, she knew how to make me squirm.
As a result, I didn't know whether her story was bacon or pork.
"Come on! Come on! Tell me if it's true or not. I'm not going to be able to stay in the dark like this!"
"Nah, too bad for you. That'll be your punishment for letting your little wife go to work pantless at her old landlord's... for now, you've got a mission ahead of you: restore the balance: you've already come and I haven't."
In two seconds, she stripped naked and settled astride me, offering her sex to my eager mouth.
I still didn't know whether her story was real or pure fiction. What I did know, however, was that he was as turned on by it as I was: She was dripping!
Re: The Landlord
True surely! It must be!
Re: The Landlord
ahh clever to keep the hubby guessing ! such a sly trick !
and I believe all women have some of an exhibitionist streak in them, whether they act on it is up to
circumstances and desire.
and I believe all women have some of an exhibitionist streak in them, whether they act on it is up to
circumstances and desire.
Re: The Landlord
You are a wonderfui storyteller.
Re: The Landlord
Over the next few days, I tried several times to get to the bottom of the matter, but she always gave me an enigmatic smile in return and refused to tell me anything more.
On Friday, I was eagerly awaiting her arrival after spending two hours with Delange:
"Well? Did he grope you?"
"- No, not today!" She replied evenly.
Not today, not today... What did that mean? That finally, the other day, it was true? Or maybe she'd just said that to make me fuss even more...
She was seriously starting to run me over the rail, that little girl!
***
On Tuesday, it was the same old story.
In the middle of a sex session, her on top of me, perched on my phallus and moving back and forth on my belly, she suddenly leaned over and whispered in my ear:
"- This morning, he took me..."
My heart leapt again, but I immediately saw the trick; this time, it was too big to be true. Delange was a real oggler who might even have gone so far as to grope my fiancée (although that remained to be proved), but I couldn't see him going any further and having a sexual relationship with her, even if he had the physical capacity to do so, and at his age, I doubted it.
No, she was obviously talking shit.
However, from her satisfied smile, I immediately knew that the damage had been done:
She must have felt my sex react as powerfully as my heart, and she understood that I was far from indifferent.
Admittedly, we were touching on my most unavowable fantasies, so unavowable that I was even trying to repress them in the depths of my subconscious, but these few words had just brought them back with incredible force.
The mental picture suddenly materialized: the naked body of a mature man, heavy and thick, thrusting between the spread legs of a very young woman, propelling his sex into her, crushing her small breasts, sticking his mouth to hers...
I couldn't resist any longer. I let the floodgates open.
On Friday, I was eagerly awaiting her arrival after spending two hours with Delange:
"Well? Did he grope you?"
"- No, not today!" She replied evenly.
Not today, not today... What did that mean? That finally, the other day, it was true? Or maybe she'd just said that to make me fuss even more...
She was seriously starting to run me over the rail, that little girl!
***
On Tuesday, it was the same old story.
In the middle of a sex session, her on top of me, perched on my phallus and moving back and forth on my belly, she suddenly leaned over and whispered in my ear:
"- This morning, he took me..."
My heart leapt again, but I immediately saw the trick; this time, it was too big to be true. Delange was a real oggler who might even have gone so far as to grope my fiancée (although that remained to be proved), but I couldn't see him going any further and having a sexual relationship with her, even if he had the physical capacity to do so, and at his age, I doubted it.
No, she was obviously talking shit.
However, from her satisfied smile, I immediately knew that the damage had been done:
She must have felt my sex react as powerfully as my heart, and she understood that I was far from indifferent.
Admittedly, we were touching on my most unavowable fantasies, so unavowable that I was even trying to repress them in the depths of my subconscious, but these few words had just brought them back with incredible force.
The mental picture suddenly materialized: the naked body of a mature man, heavy and thick, thrusting between the spread legs of a very young woman, propelling his sex into her, crushing her small breasts, sticking his mouth to hers...
I couldn't resist any longer. I let the floodgates open.
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htwfluver_4
- Virgin
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Sat Dec 08, 2012 2:09 am
Re: The Landlord
One of the very best I've encountered. Please don't go away.
Re: The Landlord
love the wife playing 'what if' with hubby. man that would be great from my own wife.
Re: The Landlord
"- Honey, you remember I'm working overtime at Delange's tonight. Don't wait for me to eat."
" - Ah yes, that's right. You'll be home late, don't you think?"
" - I think so, yes. He warned me that parties with his friends can sometimes go late into the night. In my opinion, don't wait for me to put you to bed either."
" - His parties ? "
" - Of cards, yes. I've already told you, but you obviously only listen to me when it suits you: every month, his group of friends get together to play poker, and each one takes turns hosting the others... Tonight it's his turn, and he's asked me to be there to serve and tidy up afterwards... The famous overtime from our little 'arrangement', remember?"
Yes, I did remember, even if, as time passed, I had hoped that our debtor had forgotten. Which was clearly not the case.
Well, an evening out every 5 or 6 months wasn't exactly a walk in the park either, and I was already thinking about how I was going to use this Friday evening on my own: go out for a drink with the guys, it's been so long! Or get a head start on work? Well, that remains to be seen...
"- And your outfit for tonight?"
" - Well, seeing as it's a meeting of chic old gentlemen, I think I'll probably opt for my little black skirt and a white blouse: Sober and classy at the same time."
"- And sexy too, considering how short your skirt is! I have a feeling that Delange is going to have some competition tonight, legs-ogling-wise. "
" - I don't know, maybe they're not all like him. "
" - Believe me, like him or not, no man worthy of the name can resist the temptation of checking out your little ass molded in a pretty skirt. "
She smiled borrowedly.
"And : panties or no panties?
"Well, panties of course! You don't expect me to walk around half-naked in front of a bunch of libidinous old men!
Even mentally caressing this eventuality sent shivers down my scrotum.... I really was a sick man: being aroused by the image of his young girlfriend performing a striptease for an assembly of pensioners... I absolutely had to stop!
"Hey! Two minutes ago, they were chic gentlemen and now they're libidinous old men, you have to know!"
"- Oh! Hey! Stop playing with words, you know exactly what I mean."
Yes, I did.
And once again, I was kidding myself.
I had to admit that, with all the tricks she'd pulled on me over the last few days, I'd been making up my mind.
I suspected that it was all just a fabrication to spice up our life as a couple, but I couldn't help wondering if there wasn't some truth to it, if only in the excitement Jenny showed when she teased me about it. And I was willing to bet that it wasn't just because she was having fun making me squirm.
**
"- What time do you have?"
" - 19 h 30. "
" - I have to go, kisses! "
" - Kisses!"
I watched her go. With each step, her skirt floated harmoniously over her slender legs.
She looked splendid.
A little too much, I thought, for an evening in which she was supposed to play the waitress... But hey, no self-movie, no self-movie!!!
" - Ah yes, that's right. You'll be home late, don't you think?"
" - I think so, yes. He warned me that parties with his friends can sometimes go late into the night. In my opinion, don't wait for me to put you to bed either."
" - His parties ? "
" - Of cards, yes. I've already told you, but you obviously only listen to me when it suits you: every month, his group of friends get together to play poker, and each one takes turns hosting the others... Tonight it's his turn, and he's asked me to be there to serve and tidy up afterwards... The famous overtime from our little 'arrangement', remember?"
Yes, I did remember, even if, as time passed, I had hoped that our debtor had forgotten. Which was clearly not the case.
Well, an evening out every 5 or 6 months wasn't exactly a walk in the park either, and I was already thinking about how I was going to use this Friday evening on my own: go out for a drink with the guys, it's been so long! Or get a head start on work? Well, that remains to be seen...
"- And your outfit for tonight?"
" - Well, seeing as it's a meeting of chic old gentlemen, I think I'll probably opt for my little black skirt and a white blouse: Sober and classy at the same time."
"- And sexy too, considering how short your skirt is! I have a feeling that Delange is going to have some competition tonight, legs-ogling-wise. "
" - I don't know, maybe they're not all like him. "
" - Believe me, like him or not, no man worthy of the name can resist the temptation of checking out your little ass molded in a pretty skirt. "
She smiled borrowedly.
"And : panties or no panties?
"Well, panties of course! You don't expect me to walk around half-naked in front of a bunch of libidinous old men!
Even mentally caressing this eventuality sent shivers down my scrotum.... I really was a sick man: being aroused by the image of his young girlfriend performing a striptease for an assembly of pensioners... I absolutely had to stop!
"Hey! Two minutes ago, they were chic gentlemen and now they're libidinous old men, you have to know!"
"- Oh! Hey! Stop playing with words, you know exactly what I mean."
Yes, I did.
And once again, I was kidding myself.
I had to admit that, with all the tricks she'd pulled on me over the last few days, I'd been making up my mind.
I suspected that it was all just a fabrication to spice up our life as a couple, but I couldn't help wondering if there wasn't some truth to it, if only in the excitement Jenny showed when she teased me about it. And I was willing to bet that it wasn't just because she was having fun making me squirm.
**
"- What time do you have?"
" - 19 h 30. "
" - I have to go, kisses! "
" - Kisses!"
I watched her go. With each step, her skirt floated harmoniously over her slender legs.
She looked splendid.
A little too much, I thought, for an evening in which she was supposed to play the waitress... But hey, no self-movie, no self-movie!!!
Re: The Landlord
In fact, the evening passed rather quickly.
Reasonably, I'd opted to get on with my job and, being so engrossed in it, I didn't think too much about Jenny and her role as one-night maid.
And when I did think about it, I realized that it wasn't bothering me as much as it had been lately. After all, no matter how hard I thought about it, I wasn't about to go off on some gang-bang delusion where my darling would be delivered to the lustful appetites of a group of lecherous pensioners. I wasn't messing around either. To unsettle me and turn my stomach, my moviess required a minimum of verisimilitude, and we were far from that. As Jennifer had said earlier, this was a gathering of high society gentlemen, and in these circles, even if the eye can sometimes wander, one doesn't allow oneself any deviation that might offend good morals and ruin a hard-won reputation.
So my mind was much more at ease than when I left her alone, pantless, face-to-face with Delange. Especially with what she'd been telling me lately!
And with a calmer mind, I could concentrate better on my work. Quod erat Demonstrandum.
Around midnight, however, I decided to put the thumbs down.
Jen had told me not to wait for her to put me to bed, but I tried to reach her on her mobile to get an update.
I assumed she wouldn't have her phone on her, but contrary to my fears, she answered immediately:
"Hello darling, how are you? How's it going?"
"Yes-yes, very well. Mr. Delange's guests are very nice. There's a great at-atmospheere."
Yes, I wanted to believe it: I could hear laughter and the sound of glass and bottles in the background. And I thought that this kind of evening took place in religious silence. But maybe I'd stumbled on just the right moment for a break.
"I'm going to bed now. Do you think you'll be much longer?"
" - Phew!!! I think so. I n't know anything ‘bout their game, but it looks like it's going to last weeell into the night. So don't wait for me to hit the sack. "
"How are you? You're not too bored?"
" - Nooo ! Dooon't wooorry, I'll keep bisy, I'm a big girly!" She laughed.
"- Say, is it just me, or do I get the impression you're a little tipsy right now?"
She giggled.
"You think? Noooo! I just ‘d a drink or two, just to get in the moood... but don't worry, I'm serious, I can handle it!"
I smile into the phone. From the tone of her voice, it was probably more than a glass or two she'd had. But, hey, I wasn't going to make a scene. If anything, it was the players who had insisted that she "participate". I knew her, she knew how to stop in time and anyway she didn't have a long way to go to get back.
"- OK my love. Well, keep on managing then, and see you later... or tomorrow morning if I don't wake up when you get home."
" - Sleep well my darling. I'll try not to make any noise so as not to wake you up. Lots of kussees!"
" - That's sweet. Love you."
***
I was startled awake by the slamming of the door.
"- Shit!"
Then the sound of furniture being jostled, followed by a chuckle:
"- Shhhuuut shit!"
So much for discretion and not wanting to wake me up!
In my sleepy mind, I wondered if Jenny was with someone, but soon realized she was talking to herself. I glanced at the numbers on the clock radio: 5:45 a.m.!
Wow! The evening had gone on forever!
Jennifer framed herself against the bedroom door. Balancing precariously, she leaned against the doorframe, obviously looking for the light switch in the corridor.
"Where's the fucking light? Oh, shit!
My first impression was confirmed: she was dead drunk!
Having abandoned the idea of turning off the corridor light, between my closed eyelids I saw her unzip her skirt and unbutton her blouse, then I heard shoes fall heavily to the floor, as if thrown carelessly.
"- Are you all right, darling?"
"- Aren't you asleep?"
" - Not anymore. "
" - Oops! Sorry." she giggled.
She lay down, or rather, collapsed on the bed, exhaling a sigh towards me that, on its own, must have had a degree of alcohol in it that a Russian drunk wouldn't have denied.
"Are you all right? I asked again, vaguely worried.
No answer.
"Jenny?"
A loud snore then rose from the other pillow.
Well, I'll have to wait for an explanation.
Reasonably, I'd opted to get on with my job and, being so engrossed in it, I didn't think too much about Jenny and her role as one-night maid.
And when I did think about it, I realized that it wasn't bothering me as much as it had been lately. After all, no matter how hard I thought about it, I wasn't about to go off on some gang-bang delusion where my darling would be delivered to the lustful appetites of a group of lecherous pensioners. I wasn't messing around either. To unsettle me and turn my stomach, my moviess required a minimum of verisimilitude, and we were far from that. As Jennifer had said earlier, this was a gathering of high society gentlemen, and in these circles, even if the eye can sometimes wander, one doesn't allow oneself any deviation that might offend good morals and ruin a hard-won reputation.
So my mind was much more at ease than when I left her alone, pantless, face-to-face with Delange. Especially with what she'd been telling me lately!
And with a calmer mind, I could concentrate better on my work. Quod erat Demonstrandum.
Around midnight, however, I decided to put the thumbs down.
Jen had told me not to wait for her to put me to bed, but I tried to reach her on her mobile to get an update.
I assumed she wouldn't have her phone on her, but contrary to my fears, she answered immediately:
"Hello darling, how are you? How's it going?"
"Yes-yes, very well. Mr. Delange's guests are very nice. There's a great at-atmospheere."
Yes, I wanted to believe it: I could hear laughter and the sound of glass and bottles in the background. And I thought that this kind of evening took place in religious silence. But maybe I'd stumbled on just the right moment for a break.
"I'm going to bed now. Do you think you'll be much longer?"
" - Phew!!! I think so. I n't know anything ‘bout their game, but it looks like it's going to last weeell into the night. So don't wait for me to hit the sack. "
"How are you? You're not too bored?"
" - Nooo ! Dooon't wooorry, I'll keep bisy, I'm a big girly!" She laughed.
"- Say, is it just me, or do I get the impression you're a little tipsy right now?"
She giggled.
"You think? Noooo! I just ‘d a drink or two, just to get in the moood... but don't worry, I'm serious, I can handle it!"
I smile into the phone. From the tone of her voice, it was probably more than a glass or two she'd had. But, hey, I wasn't going to make a scene. If anything, it was the players who had insisted that she "participate". I knew her, she knew how to stop in time and anyway she didn't have a long way to go to get back.
"- OK my love. Well, keep on managing then, and see you later... or tomorrow morning if I don't wake up when you get home."
" - Sleep well my darling. I'll try not to make any noise so as not to wake you up. Lots of kussees!"
" - That's sweet. Love you."
***
I was startled awake by the slamming of the door.
"- Shit!"
Then the sound of furniture being jostled, followed by a chuckle:
"- Shhhuuut shit!"
So much for discretion and not wanting to wake me up!
In my sleepy mind, I wondered if Jenny was with someone, but soon realized she was talking to herself. I glanced at the numbers on the clock radio: 5:45 a.m.!
Wow! The evening had gone on forever!
Jennifer framed herself against the bedroom door. Balancing precariously, she leaned against the doorframe, obviously looking for the light switch in the corridor.
"Where's the fucking light? Oh, shit!
My first impression was confirmed: she was dead drunk!
Having abandoned the idea of turning off the corridor light, between my closed eyelids I saw her unzip her skirt and unbutton her blouse, then I heard shoes fall heavily to the floor, as if thrown carelessly.
"- Are you all right, darling?"
"- Aren't you asleep?"
" - Not anymore. "
" - Oops! Sorry." she giggled.
She lay down, or rather, collapsed on the bed, exhaling a sigh towards me that, on its own, must have had a degree of alcohol in it that a Russian drunk wouldn't have denied.
"Are you all right? I asked again, vaguely worried.
No answer.
"Jenny?"
A loud snore then rose from the other pillow.
Well, I'll have to wait for an explanation.
Re: The Landlord
This is a really intriguing story.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Re: The Landlord
And we have to wait too!
-
john jasson
- 2 Bit Whore
- Posts: 1252
- Joined: Sun Oct 23, 2011 1:34 am
Re: The Landlord
C'est formidable! I like this. The patient build up, the tease in her character as she turns it up. I don't comment so much on stories nowadays, but this is fine work in any language.
Me: You’re probably a better fuck than his wife.
Her: I’m probably a better fuck than most people’s wives.
Our crazy journey: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=65359
Her: I’m probably a better fuck than most people’s wives.
Our crazy journey: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=65359
-
Marriedcuck
- Prepubescent
- Posts: 1
- Joined: Wed Jun 22, 2022 2:37 pm
Re: The Landlord
Loving this!!
Re: The Landlord
I woke up a few hours later. Daylight was shining through the curtains, and the light in the corridor had still not been turned off.
Jenny was sleeping beside me and, from what I could remember, she didn't seem to have moved an inch since she'd dropped there. The sheet I'd slid over her before falling back asleep hadn't moved either.
At least she wasn't snoring anymore.
Leaving her to recover from her very short night, I got up in silence.
In the kitchen, as I made coffee, I remembered her early arrival.
She'd put on quite a show. Without making her out to be a goody-goody, I'd rarely seen her in such a state. Sure, she'd drunk more than she should on occasion at parties, but in this case, I felt she'd set a record.
And all this on what was supposed to be a quiet evening!
Sipping my coffee, I couldn't stop a movie from playing in my head: A young woman with model looks... alone... surrounded by 5 or 6 men at a bachelor party... a little alcohol... a lot of alcohol... dirty jokes... more adventurous gestures as the night wore on... the evening going off the rails...
No-no, David, no silly scenarios like that! It's going to give you what, apart from a raging boner that you won't be able to relieve because madam's still out of it!
Although... that would be just the thing to bring this most appetizing sleeping beauty back to life...
My actions following my thoughts, I soon found myself at the bedroom door, gazing at my darling still swaddled in her sheet.
I sat down gently beside her and put my hand on her calf, which was sticking out from the covers.
Slowly, I caressed her bare skin, gradually working my way up, back under the sheet, gaining ground on her warm velvet... She hardly reacted, barely letting out a sigh that I couldn't determine whether it was due to my touch or to her daydreams.
The further up I went, the moister the place became. The heat combined with the alcohol was probably making her sweat.
But as I reached her crotch, which was easily accessible thanks to the position of her legs, my fingers encountered more than just a definite wetness: she was literally soaking wet!
She flinched at my touch, but didn't wake up.
I smiled at the idea of the nature of the dream that had put her in such a state. Would the naughty girl remember it when she woke up so she could tell me?
Or was her overflowing wetness more likely to be caused by a bladder malfunction brought on by too many liquids ingested during the night?
It was this possibility that made me mechanically remove my fingers and bring them a few centimetres from my nostrils to test the hypothesis...
But just as I was expecting to smell something characteristically sweet and mild, it was a completely different fragrance that struck my sensory sensors : A powerful, pungent, musky scent. Just as characteristic, but in a total different register...
No! It wasn't possible! My troubled, deranged mind was playing tricks on me! It was taking advantage of my uncertainties, my procrastination, to make my wildest delusions seem real!
Perplexed, I moved my fingers closer to my nostrils again.
No, there was no doubt. It was the same smell, the one they had when I continued to play with her intimate folds after having emptied myself inside her...
No, there had to be another explanation!
Maybe we'd made love during the night and I just couldn't remember!
It was possible, wasn't it?
My gaze fell on her black skirt abandoned at the foot of the bed.
Of course it was! Now I'd know what it was all about! The state of her panties would tell me what it was all about.
I grabbed the light garment... nothing underneath. I shook it... still nothing.
Yet she must have taken it off at the same time as her skirt!
I looked all around the bed, no trace of panties, or bra for that matter.
Bewildered, I went to the bathroom just in case.
At least this time she hadn't thrown in a wash.
Somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain, a little mental note tinkled to emphasize that running a wash was precisely the radical way to prevent this kind of verification. But for the moment, I wilfully ignored this stray thought.
Nothing in the laundry basket. Nothing in the washing machine drum either.
Nothing in the living room...
I had to face the facts: Jennifer had come back to the apartment without her underwear.
Contrary to what she'd told me, had she finally left without them?
Perhaps, but it seemed unlikely.
My eyes returned to the little black skirt I still held in my hand and were drawn to a detail I hadn't yet noticed : Apart from the fact that the garment was unusually crumpled, there were marks... dried whitish streaks... numerous... very numerous...
Of course, she could have spilled drinks on herself, but the shape and nature of the marks didn't suggest that. Rather, they completed an evil puzzle that sarcastically echoed the unlikely fantasy I'd developed while drinking my coffee.
Suddenly, the fantasy didn't seem so improbable.
I poked my nose at a spot that wasn't yet dry... the pervasive smell of cold semen confirmed my doubts.
Livid, I returned to the bedroom and pulled back the sheet covering Jennifer. She still hadn't moved. A dark halo spread across the mattress at the juncture of her thighs.
I leaned over her and plunged my fingers into her soggy slit, looking for the ultimate proof.
I must not have been very delicate; she woke up.
"Ouch! What the..."
Then she saw me, looking haggard, her skirt in one hand, the other half planted in her adulterous sex... She realized I'd understood.
"- Oh shiiit!!!" She let out a plaintive moan, holding her head with both hands.
Jenny was sleeping beside me and, from what I could remember, she didn't seem to have moved an inch since she'd dropped there. The sheet I'd slid over her before falling back asleep hadn't moved either.
At least she wasn't snoring anymore.
Leaving her to recover from her very short night, I got up in silence.
In the kitchen, as I made coffee, I remembered her early arrival.
She'd put on quite a show. Without making her out to be a goody-goody, I'd rarely seen her in such a state. Sure, she'd drunk more than she should on occasion at parties, but in this case, I felt she'd set a record.
And all this on what was supposed to be a quiet evening!
Sipping my coffee, I couldn't stop a movie from playing in my head: A young woman with model looks... alone... surrounded by 5 or 6 men at a bachelor party... a little alcohol... a lot of alcohol... dirty jokes... more adventurous gestures as the night wore on... the evening going off the rails...
No-no, David, no silly scenarios like that! It's going to give you what, apart from a raging boner that you won't be able to relieve because madam's still out of it!
Although... that would be just the thing to bring this most appetizing sleeping beauty back to life...
My actions following my thoughts, I soon found myself at the bedroom door, gazing at my darling still swaddled in her sheet.
I sat down gently beside her and put my hand on her calf, which was sticking out from the covers.
Slowly, I caressed her bare skin, gradually working my way up, back under the sheet, gaining ground on her warm velvet... She hardly reacted, barely letting out a sigh that I couldn't determine whether it was due to my touch or to her daydreams.
The further up I went, the moister the place became. The heat combined with the alcohol was probably making her sweat.
But as I reached her crotch, which was easily accessible thanks to the position of her legs, my fingers encountered more than just a definite wetness: she was literally soaking wet!
She flinched at my touch, but didn't wake up.
I smiled at the idea of the nature of the dream that had put her in such a state. Would the naughty girl remember it when she woke up so she could tell me?
Or was her overflowing wetness more likely to be caused by a bladder malfunction brought on by too many liquids ingested during the night?
It was this possibility that made me mechanically remove my fingers and bring them a few centimetres from my nostrils to test the hypothesis...
But just as I was expecting to smell something characteristically sweet and mild, it was a completely different fragrance that struck my sensory sensors : A powerful, pungent, musky scent. Just as characteristic, but in a total different register...
No! It wasn't possible! My troubled, deranged mind was playing tricks on me! It was taking advantage of my uncertainties, my procrastination, to make my wildest delusions seem real!
Perplexed, I moved my fingers closer to my nostrils again.
No, there was no doubt. It was the same smell, the one they had when I continued to play with her intimate folds after having emptied myself inside her...
No, there had to be another explanation!
Maybe we'd made love during the night and I just couldn't remember!
It was possible, wasn't it?
My gaze fell on her black skirt abandoned at the foot of the bed.
Of course it was! Now I'd know what it was all about! The state of her panties would tell me what it was all about.
I grabbed the light garment... nothing underneath. I shook it... still nothing.
Yet she must have taken it off at the same time as her skirt!
I looked all around the bed, no trace of panties, or bra for that matter.
Bewildered, I went to the bathroom just in case.
At least this time she hadn't thrown in a wash.
Somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain, a little mental note tinkled to emphasize that running a wash was precisely the radical way to prevent this kind of verification. But for the moment, I wilfully ignored this stray thought.
Nothing in the laundry basket. Nothing in the washing machine drum either.
Nothing in the living room...
I had to face the facts: Jennifer had come back to the apartment without her underwear.
Contrary to what she'd told me, had she finally left without them?
Perhaps, but it seemed unlikely.
My eyes returned to the little black skirt I still held in my hand and were drawn to a detail I hadn't yet noticed : Apart from the fact that the garment was unusually crumpled, there were marks... dried whitish streaks... numerous... very numerous...
Of course, she could have spilled drinks on herself, but the shape and nature of the marks didn't suggest that. Rather, they completed an evil puzzle that sarcastically echoed the unlikely fantasy I'd developed while drinking my coffee.
Suddenly, the fantasy didn't seem so improbable.
I poked my nose at a spot that wasn't yet dry... the pervasive smell of cold semen confirmed my doubts.
Livid, I returned to the bedroom and pulled back the sheet covering Jennifer. She still hadn't moved. A dark halo spread across the mattress at the juncture of her thighs.
I leaned over her and plunged my fingers into her soggy slit, looking for the ultimate proof.
I must not have been very delicate; she woke up.
"Ouch! What the..."
Then she saw me, looking haggard, her skirt in one hand, the other half planted in her adulterous sex... She realized I'd understood.
"- Oh shiiit!!!" She let out a plaintive moan, holding her head with both hands.
Re: The Landlord
Really great work.