David Crane - She licked the landlord

"I better check your cock," she said.

Gunderson, feeling that he was on firm ground here, opened his fly and hauled his prick out. He knelt on the bed, knowing she was too lazy to reach for it. Holding his prick in his palm, he offered it to her face.

She eyed his cock doubtfully. "It's slick," she said accusingly. Then she pressed her nose to the cock-knob and sniffed. Finding no incriminating hint of cunt-juice, she relented.

"Well, all right," she grumbled. "But if I ever find you fucking around…"

"Never, darling!" he squawked.

He had the distinct impression that she would relish catching him cheating on her so that she would have a good reason to beat the shit out of him.

Hilda was that sort of person.

She was much like a female version of Al, in fact – and there was a good reason for that.

Because they had the same last name and lived together, it was naturally assumed that they were husband and wife. But, actually both Al and Hilda were so mean natured and nasty that no one would have married either of them.

And the sordid truth of the matter was that they were brother and sister.

Hilda's massive thighs parted and her heavy haunches heaved up with an avalanche effect.

"You may suck my cunt," she rasped.

Al knew better than to decline. Anyhow, he liked to eat pussy. He had often wished that he owed Crystal some rent, so that he could suck her pussy in payment. It had never dawned on him to go down on her when it was she who was in debt, however. It wouldn't have been fair.

He moved down the bed.

Hilda lifted her knees and tilted her cunt up like some hairy delicacy she was serving him. He paused for a moment, gazing down at her steaming cunt-slot.

Muff-diving on Hilda was like going down on the Colossus of Rhodes.

"Eat me, asshole!" she grunted. Al buried his head between the firm columns of her marble-white thighs and began to gobble her cunt. Hilda clamped her legs around his head in a scissor grip, blinding him, muffling his ears, gagging his mouth. He was sputtering as he sucked. The bald, shiny top of his head rested in her thick, autumn-hued cunt-bush and the rest of his head was buried.

"Suck, you cunt-lapper!" she hissed. Al sucked and licked dutifully. Her thighs parted, giving him some breathing room. But then she reached down and grabbed him by his saucer-like ears, tugging his face around in her foaming fuckhole.

"Drink my cunt-slime, fuck-face! Yeah – swallow the nasty stuff, you bald bastard!"

It would have delighted Crystal if she could have heard the way Al's sister addressed him, in these moments of raging sibling passion – and, maybe, made her understand why he was so churlish when she blew him, too.

Al munched steadily away and soon his sister's pussy was melting in his mouth.

He sucked her dry.

When she had had enough, she placed a foot against his shoulder and shoved him away.

Al had a hard-on again, inspired by his snack, but she wasn't interested in that. Fucking took too much energy, and cock-sucking was too indelicate for Hilda.

"Okay, you've been fed, you fucking hog," she growled. "Now make my breakfast."

Al dutifully went to do so.

He sure was going to be sorry when he lost Crystal as a tenant…

Henry Sylvester was a bookish gentleman, with silvery hair and horn-rimmed eyeglasses, elegantly dressed in a three-piece suit and silk necktie. The suit was well cut and frightfully expensive, but at the moment the lines of his trousers were distorted.

Henry had a massive hard-on.

But he was hiding it behind the desk as he interviewed the sexy young blonde girl.

"Yes, I think you'll do nicely," he said.

"Oh, I'm so pleased," Crystal said, smiling. "Errrrr – there's only one thing…" he added. Her eyebrows went up quizzically. But Henry didn't notice, since he was staring at her tits.

"There's some physical effort involved, my dear. You must be fairly strong and agile."

She looked puzzled.

"To put heavy volumes high on the shelves, of course," the elegant bookstore owner explained.

"Oh, I'm sure I can manage."

"Well, let's just see, shall we?" he suggested. He rose from behind his desk. If he hadn't been such a proper, courtly sort of man, Crystal could have sworn that he had a huge hard-on.

Looks can be deceiving, she figured. He handed her a heavy dictionary and motioned toward the sliding ladder.

"Let's see if you can place this book on the very top shelf, my dear," he said.

Crystal cradled the big book on one arm and mounted the stepladder gracefully, having no difficulty. She placed the book on the top shelf and looked down, hoping that he would express his approval.

She was startled to find that Mr. Sylvester was standing at the foot of the ladder, his aristocratic head tilted back – as he looked right up her skirt!

Holy cow! Crystal thought.

But she didn't mind in the least.

Crystal loved to be admired, and his admiration was evident. He was licking his lips and his eyes were glinting behind his glasses – and the front of his trousers stood out obscenely.

Figuring she would give him a good look, Crystal pretended that she was having more trouble with the book than she actually was. She placed one foot on a higher rung and parted her sleek thighs as wide as her precarious perch permitted.

She was glad she was wearing tiny, sexy bikini panties under her modest dress.

And now, as she felt his gaze burning into her groin, the crotch band of her panties began to fill up with a heavy flood of cunt-juice. She could feel it soaking her undies.

Her clit swelled, standing out like a bullet in the crotch band. Thick, pasty cunt-milk oozed from the edges of the leg holes, trickling down her inner thighs. She knew that he was aware of her arousal.

Sylvester was licking his lips more hungrily now and his long, thin nose rippled, nostrils flaring, as he breathed in the fumes of her hot pussy.

His expression was definitely that of a cunt-lapper!

The prospect excited Crystal.

If sitting on his face was part of the job, that was fine with her. She adored getting her pussy sucked and if her boss wanted to do it for her, it would be like a bonus, a part of the job.

It would be lots better than sucking Gunderson's prick for the rent, she figured.

As long as Sylvester didn't think he could eat her cunt in lieu of wages.

Crystal would have willingly let Sylvester tongue-fuck her on the spot, in fact. But he was far too much the gentleman to make such a request, as if the job were dependent on her compliance.

When he realized that she was looking down at him, he blushed and averted his face.

Crystal was disappointed when he stepped away, and she remained where she was, in case he changed bis mind and came back for another look – or a lick.

But he sat down behind his desk again. She climbed back down the ladder, managing to get her dress hiked up high enough to give him a good look at her trim, hard, round ass.

He was sweating profusely, his hands trembling, his lips damp. But he wasn't a forward fellow, and Crystal was far too shy to make a suggestion, herself.

She decided not to wear any panties when she came to work, as a sort of hint.

"Well?" she asked.

"Ummmmm?" he murmured, distracted. "Oh. Oh, yes, to be sure – you may have the job, my dear."

"Thank you, Mister Sylvester. I know you won't be sorry." She batted her long, silken eyelashes bewitchingly. "I'll do anything you want me to."

He cleared his throat, hesitating. She looked hopeful. They both looked horny. But then he seemed to decide that it was too soon to go into details of her duties.

"Can you start after lunch?" he asked.

"Sure," she agreed.