These days the housing crisis in London is such that landlords can abuse it by putting adverts for a free room and board if you fuck them and some women are so desperate for somewhere to live that they feel they have no choice. These men are predators and I hope the women involved at least sew prawns into the curtains when they leave.
They also make me feel a tiny bit guilty about the time I fucked my landlady’s husband when I was first living in London. Not because I was under any pressure about housing but because he was actually quite attractive and I could basically which formed a lot of my sexual decision making when I was 24.
His wife had been given our rented house as an ‘investment portfolio’ by her mum who owned a lot of property in the area and she wasn’t especially overjoyed to discover the work that came with being a landlady so while she stayed out in the suburbs being a stay at home mum, she sent her husband who worked in the city round to deal with us.
It started innocently enough that he’ call round to collect a rent cheque or look at a problem and join all of us in the house for a glass of wine before catching his train home. Then one night around Christmas he crashed on our sofa too pissed after the works do to go home and we sort of didn’t mind him occasionally using the place as a crash pad as it got our rent cashed quicker.
I tended to be round the house more as I worked much more irregular hours than my flatmates and I was the one who could deal with practical stuff like boilers and taps so we talked more. And then the talking expanded on his part into the classic ‘my wife doesn’t understand me’ stuff. How he hated commuting, didn’t know his kids, felt his wife was only interested in his salary.
I forgot I wasn’t his friend nor was I still actually a sex worker and that I didn’t have to listen to this stuff for free but I liked him and I could see he had genuine worries that a friendly ear would help with. We ended up having dinner a couple of times and then I think he panicked that it looked like an affair and kept his distance for a few months.
Then one night he was there when I came home on the invitation of another one of my flatmates. I happened to know that everyone else in my house was out for the night because I’d just left them in the pub after just enough early evening wine to make me impulsive.
I poured him a glass of wine while he fixed the kitchen tap or whatever he had come to do and we chatted slightly awkwardly. Our kitchen was tiny and you could barely stand without touching anyway and the proximity and wine and discussing why he’d been avoiding me all came together and the next thing I knew he was lifting me up and kissing me while carrying me toward the kitchen table.
He laid me down on the table and was on top of me kissing me and it was hot. He was one of those men in his early forties who was ageing well and worked the silver fox look and I could feel a surprisingly good body from him being on top of me. I wanted to fuck him. He wanted to fuck me.
But first I wanted to suck his cock because if there’s one thing married men whose wives don’t understand them always want, it’s their cock sucked. I started pulling his trousers off and was delighted to see that he had a beautiful cock. Long, just the right side of thick and incredibly hard, it was just the kind of cock I wanted in my mouth.
I wriggled round on the kitchen table so my head was hanging over the edge slightly and looking up at him on my back so he could stand and dip his cock into my mouth. This is a good way to take someone’s cock for deep throat but I didn’t take him in that far. Firstly I’m not a fan and secondly, I think if I had he’d have come instantly.
Instead I opened my mouth wide and licked his cock lazily before sucking on his balls to tug at them before slipping his cock in and out of my my mouth so that I could really tighten my lips up and down him to make him moan and gasp. He was so close to coming and each time he seemed to lose control I’d loosen my mouth and flick my tongue round and lick him lazily again.
I hadn’t decided if I’d fuck him or let him come in my mouth this way since I was in my kitchen with no condoms to hand and was mentally running through my head where the closest ones were before I decided. Then I remembered I had some in my bag lying in the hall outside the kitchen.
I pushed myself off the table by taking his cock as deep as I could and then using my tongue to push him out of my mouth so he stepped backwards and jumped off the table explaining why. When I turned back round into the room holding the condoms, he had his cock in his hand and seeing him horny, hard and clearly making bad decisions went to my cunt so much.
He pushed me back on the table as I pulled my jeans off as he rolled the condom on and slid straight into my soaking wet cunt like he hadn’t fucked in a lifetime. The table was the perfect height for one of my my favourite ways to fuck so I had my legs wrapped round his neck pushing him deeper into me and fucking me so hard the table was banging off the wall.
I was surprised that he lasted as long as he did considering how ridiculously horny we both were and how close to coming in my mouth he had been. He came into me so hard the table lurched and he literally howled as he orgasmed. The only thing better for me that being fucked that hard is the feeling of a man coming into me and it always tips me into coming too.
He could hardly move himself off me as we lay there enjoying the afterglow of our orgasms until we realised that the table as at an odd angle. Turned out we’d broken one of the legs while we were fucking. That made us move before we crashed to the floor and really had something to explain.
Luckily my flatmates came home wasted later that night after he’d left and assumed they broke the table. I was smart enough not own up but horny enough to allow my landlady’s husband to come round a few weeks later to measure up for a new one. This time we fucked on the sofa though to be safe…