David Crane - She licked the landlord

Her golden head lunged up and down, meeting him as he fed the cock-meat in. Her blonde tresses fell in a soft curtain over his balls as he buried his bone.

Pre-cum began to dribble onto her tongue. She let the cock-lube trickle down her throat, enjoying the taste and the texture despite the fact that it was a loathsome lout who was serving it to her.

His cock hissed through the oval collar of her lovely lips skimmed over her flashing tongue and sank back into her gullet, tilting her head back. She arched, her plump tits thrusting up.

Gunderson shifted his feet wider apart. Holding her face steady between his callused palms, he slogged his fucker in faster and harder. He was pumping on the cum-strokes and she was sucking toward a creamy conclusion.

He always came abruptly and without much warning.

Today was no exception.

At one moment her mouth was full of cockmeat, and the next it was suddenly full of cum.

"Arghhhh!" he grunted.

Crystal gulped his cum down and he fed her more, plowing his prick in through his own slime. He had plenty of the thick stuff and he was spraying her mouth abundantly. Cum sloshed in her checks and dribbled through her teeth. Her lapper had a creamy coating.

He fucked in deeply and spilled some jism straight down her gullet. Crystal made a gargling sound as she gulped his cock-cream down. Her head moved up and down and he kept pumping in and squirting more cum.

A jizz-jet bit the roof of her mouth, and yet another whitewashed her gorge. She was swallowing most of the cum, but some was overflowing, spilling from her lips and running down her chin.

He stopped shooting as abruptly as he had begun.

One instant his cum was spurting out and the next his balls were drained. His cock-head stopped flaring and his cock-shaft stopped throbbing.

Crystal kept sucking, figuring that there was no point in leaving a job unfinished, but he had stopped humping now and his prick was already turning rubbery again. The prick-knob rolled limply over her lapper.

She ducked down, taking his cock balls-deep into her mouth, then pulled back up, sucking the spunk from his stalk, mopping up the dregs to keep it neat.

Gunderson grunted and stepped back. His prick came snaking from her lips and dropped down instantly, as limp as a noodle, dripping with her saliva.

Crystal tossed her head back and let the final mouthful of jism spill on down her throat. It was a pleasant sensation, having a bellyful of jizz, in spite of the balls that had delivered it.

She looked up at the landlord with an uncertain sort of smile on her cum-smeared mouth.

He could have at least said thanks.

But he was leering at her most ungallantly.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning, scum bucket," he rasped.

He simply didn't know the right things to say to girls, not to mention destitute tenants.

Then, tucking his spent cock back into his baggy pants, he left.

Crystal shrugged and went back, to reading the newspaper.

Crystal found two ads that sounded promising.

One was for a room in a private house, a sort of live-in arrangement offered by a divorcee who would take a very reasonable rent in exchange for sharing in the housework. It seemed just what Crystal was looking for – and no amount of housework could be more irritating than having to give blow-jobs to Al Gunderson.

But first she had to find a job, and the second ad was for a girl to work in a book store, which was just the sort of wholesome employment that would suit the innocent, small-town girl to a tee, especially when she wrote home to tell her narrow-minded parents what she was doing in the city where, as they knew, the ways were wicked.

She had never written them about blowing Al Gunderson, of course, although the thought had occurred to her and made her feel devilish.

She decided that logistics decreed that she apply for the job first and, if she got it, arrange to rent the room. She was looking forward eagerly to getting out of this seedy, shabby, sordid living arrangement.

She wondered if Al Gunderson would expect a blow-job in lieu of notice.

The thought made her giggle.

Maybe she would, just for old times' sake.

She sorted through her meager supply of clothing and chose a demure sort of dress that seemed appropriate, showing off her splendid body attractively and enticingly, but in a modest and innocent fashion.

Before she got droned, however – as a sort of afterthought – she lay back down on the bed to give her cunt a quick and efficient hand-job.

Although Crystal disliked the circumstances and the necessity of doing it, she had to admit that it usually left her feeling horny after she'd sucked Al's cock and drank his cum-load.

If he'd been a nicer guy – not necessarily more handsome, just more pleasant – and less demanding and crude, Crystal would probably have sucked him off of her own free will, and enjoyed it a lot more.

But Gunderson was Gunderson, and such things were not meant to be.

Crystal spread her shapely thighs and arched her slender back and began to rub her clit. She didn't bother with any foreplay or preliminary caresses, ignoring her stiff nipples and not even finger-fucking her hot cunt-hole.

This was simply an efficiency frigging, to take the heat and the pressure off – and preventive, as well, to keep her from creaming in her panties, which would have been terribly embarrassing during a job interview.

Undulating her ass and hips and tasting the lingering flavor of Gunderson's jizz on her tongue, she massaged her stiff clit with a practiced hand and had herself surging to a foaming finale in a few moments.

She finished juicing, then licked her fingers – wondering, as always, why cunt-cum tasted so tantalizing.

Crystal knew damned well that she wasn't a dyke, so it puzzled the innocent, small-town girl as to why she so often had fantasies about eating pussy.

That was one of the mysteries that she would soon learn in the city, with its wicked ways.

Feeling more relaxed with her pussy melted by hand, Crystal got dressed and went out, seeking a new life…

Al Gunderson finished collecting the rent from the rest of the tenants – all of whom paid in cash instead of head – and went back to his own apartment, which was as sordid and shabby as the ones he rented.

Hilda Gunderson was still in bed, which was not strange, because she was usually in bed, eating chocolates or bananas, or both.

Hilda was naked, which was also usual. She had a pretty face, heavily painted, her lips a scarlet slash and her eyes darkened with mascara. Her flame-red hair tumbled over the pillow like red ink.

She had the sort of figure that a gentleman would have termed hourglass shaped, and a crude fellow such as Al thought of as being the brick shit-house sort. Her tits were huge, her hips wide, her ass big. Her cunt-mound was like a flaming bush, red curls spreading up from her vee like tongues of flame licking her belly.

When Al came in, she held out her hand and rubbed her thumb and fingers together.

Al obediently gave her all the rent money, which she counted twice. Then she scowled ferociously.

"It's short, asshole!" she snapped.

Al looked guilty.

"Aarr… that blonde girl in Four-B didn't have it today," he mumbled, his eyes moving shiftily.

"You gotta kick that bleached hussy out, you shit-head," Hilda snarled. Then a look of suspicion crept into her gaudily painted face. "Or are you fucking her for the rent?"

"Oh, no, darling," he protested – which was true, as well, as far as it went.

That was why Al had never demanded a fuck from Crystal. Hilda had never thought to ask him about a blow-job.

"Yeah? I wouldn't put it past you, you scumbag," Hilda growled. Her green eyes were glowing like melting jade and her red hair seemed to sizzle with electricity.