The balance of power: I fucked my landlord [FM]

*This is a long one, folks. But I think it’s necessary to capture the dynamic at play. I’ve included some page breaks if you want to skip to the sexy stuff. It’s hard to describe in words how it feels to exchange power during sex. But I’ve tried. Let me know what you think.*

—————-

Apparently some wise person once said that everything in life is really about sex – except sex, which is really about power.

As a bratty switch, I’ve always been fascinated with power dynamics during sex. What precipitates the shift of power from one person to another. What tips me over the edge from stubborn, disobedient brat to panting, wanton slut… and then suddenly to cold, wry dom. Deciphering what we’re really trying to get from sex, beyond the hot wet colliding and crescendos.

All this is to say, when an opportunity like what happened last week presents itself, I’m going to be intrigued.

I moved house a few weeks ago, into an old villa rented with three other incredible women. It’s a good vibe, cosy and wholesome (and the walls are thicker than my last place… ha). Last week there were builders working on the outside of our house.

I know what you’re thinking, and no, I don’t seduce a builder. It’s just not my style. I’m kind of an undercover slut – I’m not obvious about it. I’m petite and athletic with an alty haircut, tattoos and glasses. I have perky D-cup boobs but I rarely wear low-cut tops. I’m not a prude, but I’m not obviously slutty.

Anyway, I was working from home on Friday, sitting at my desk in front of my window that faces out to the street, on the ground floor. I look up from the document I’m editing and am surprised to find there’s a man standing on our lawn. Hmm. He hasn’t seen me, but I watch as he crosses the lawn and then I hear the doorbell ring. Mildly pissed off at being interrupted, I get up to open the front door.

“Hi,” the man grins. “I’m Matt. I’m sorry to show up like this. I’m uh, I’m actually your landlord. You must be the new tenant, then?”

I give myself a moment to figure out what we’re dealing with here. He seems friendly. He’s not hugely tall – perhaps 5’9″ or so, but then again, I’m not much more than 5’3″. He’s built, but in a casual, semi-dad-bod way. He has curly hair, greying, and a face that I’m finding hard to place, age-wise. He looks… boyish, handsome, perpetually young but with nice smile lines that hint at him having a few years over me. I’m picking mid-40s.

I blink. “Oh yeah, hey. I’m Morgan. Nice to meet you. Yeah, I uh – moved in a few weeks ago. How’s… how’s it going?”

I’m not flustered, I try to reassure myself. I’m not taken aback by my DILF landlord. This is fine.

Matt nods, still smiling warmly, and I notice his eyes dart down to take me in.

“Yeah, good thanks!” he enthuses. “Sorry about the builders, it’s been a real pain. They’ve left a bit of a mess and I’m going to need to get under the house to clean it up, sorry. Are you… who’s is this front bedroom now? I’ll just need to get to the trapdoor in there.”

Inwardly, I roll my eyes. This is classic landlord behaviour, isn’t it – showing up, no notice, and wanting access to the house. To my bedroom. My privacy feels weirdly invaded. There are laws against this. There’s a 24-hour notice thing. How many other houses does this fucker own?

Bet his laddish charm is a real asset when it comes to dealing with tenants.

“Um, yeah. That’s my room, I’m just – I’m working from home today. When do you need access?” I say, a little huffily.

“Well, I’ve got to go get a few things from the hardware store, so uh, probably a couple of hours,” Matt shrugs.

“OK, well,” I sigh. “You know you’re supposed to give us notice, right? This is pretty disruptive. I’ll have to move my desk so you can get to the trapdoor, and I have to find somewhere else to work.”

I’m playing up my annoyance. I realise I want to see him squirm a bit.

He looks down, apologetic, scratches the back of his head and looks up at me through his eyelashes. Fuck him for having nice eyes.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, it’s – I didn’t expect – the builders have left a lot of mess, I’d like to get it sorted. Sorry. I’ll uh, I’ll be back later. I have a key so don’t worry if you’re heading out,” he says, as he turns and ambles back towards his car.

*Oh thanks, Matt, so courteous of you to not insist that I be home while you invade my privacy*, I think as I roll my eyes outwardly this time and close the door. I hate that entitled landlord attitude – like us lowly peasants should be so grateful that they’ve deigned to provide a roof over our heads. Like they can simply breeze on into our homes whenever they want.

And at the same time, I catch myself thinking about shoulders under his fitted tee. His slender hips and round ass I watched walking away across our lawn.

“Fuck you, Matt,” I mutter under my breath.

—————-

I settle back into my work for another hour or so, clear away a few things on my to-do list. I stand up, drink some water. Lie down to stretch out my spine and my hips. Breathe deeply into the good-kinda-pain as I work some tension out of my hip flexors. Push myself back into child’s pose, knees spread wide on the floor as I press my ass back.

I think idly about how I wish there was a cock behind me to press back onto.

The thing about working from home is that when you’re a permanently-horny little fucker like me, there’s nothing stopping you just getting yourself off on your lunch break. I never have any meetings on Fridays either…

I check my watch, eye my bedside drawer with my vibrator in it. Pull my curtains. Flop backwards onto my bed as I shimmy my jeans off and slowly, lazily begin stroking my labia through my panties. Teasing myself.

I unlock my phone and open Reddit, flick to the subreddit I like, the one with gifs of married women fucking other men raw. Watch as some anonymous monster cock, shining wet, plunges into some lucky slut’s cunt again and again.

By now I have my t-shirt half off, one hand pinching my nipple, one deep in my own wetness. I’m breathing faster, imagining a hard cock stretching me out. I reach over and get my vibrator, turn it on and start rolling it over my clit as I buck my hips involuntarily.

I groan and up the intensity on the vibrator. Nobody else is home and I’m here, fucking myself to orgasm on my lunchbreak, too horny to even last a full workday without getting off. I chuckle and gasp as I feel my pussy spasm, wanting something to grab onto. I’m close. I can feel the pleasure shivering through my body, making my abs tense, the pulsing heat at the core of me –

Suddenly I hear the front door open. The shock of it helps my thoughts swim into focus.

*Fuck.* Matt. I had completely forgotten.

I freeze in panic, precipitously close to orgasm, my eyes wide in surprise. The vibrator buzzes relentlessly against my clit and I can’t find enough concentration to figure out what to do. I hold my breath.

My bedroom door opens, and I come.

Everything explodes in a million crystal shards of pleasure, my muscles spasming again and again. I realise, dimly, from somewhere far away, that I am definitely moaning, definitely thrashing.

And my landlord is standing in my doorway, definitely watching all of this happen.

Suddenly everything is in motion. Horror sets in as the shaking in my legs subsides, embarrassment lodging itself deep in me. Landlord Matt is stammering and backing quickly out of the doorway, muttering apologies and saying he’ll be out back.

*Fuuuck.* My cheeks burn hot as I struggle not to be swamped by shame. I try to see the funny side.

Well, at least I got a good orgasm in. And at least he got a good show.

I mean, what does he expect? Who the fuck just walks into their tenant’s home without knocking? Is that legal? What an asshole.

I start giggling. Maybe this is the wake-up call he needs to respect his tenants’ privacy better. Only so far that boyish grin can get you, Matt, I think as I roll myself off the bed.

I’m still deliciously tingly and a bit sleepy from that orgasm, despite the alarming nature of the whole thing. I take my time pulling on my clothes, smoothing my hair down. Matt can wait. I’m delaying the inevitable, embarrassed to confront him. But I feel a surprising lack of shame. Sluts gonna slut, I guess. Sometimes we get caught.

I take a deep breath before opening the door to the backyard. I clear my throat and Matt pops his head round the side of the house, sheepishly.

We lock eyes and my stomach does a backflip at his unexpected sheer, raw look of desire. Matt realises, and quickly rearranges his expression into something resembling neutrality.

“Ah,” I stumble. “I’m, hi. Matt. I’m so sorry. I, um. I didn’t. I forgot you were coming, and I. Um.”

He drops his gaze and I see the outline of a smirk play across his face. He looks up, fixes me directly with his gaze.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect that you’d be… coming,” Matt laughs. It’s a corny joke, and I can’t tell if it makes the situation better or worse.

I run my hand through my hair and chuckle a little, let out the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding.

“Um, yeah. Well,” I stand aside from the door, “You can come in. But you have to give more notice next time. And… you really have to knock,” I try to arrange my tone of voice to be reprimanding.

It feels a little fake, given my situation. I’m not looking at him but I can tell he’s smirking as he walks past me, a little too close, and I feel a hot flush of anger. Fucking rude pervy bastard. I bet he liked that. One point to him.

But maybe I liked it too.

I realise it might not be anger, this throbbing I feel in my lower belly, my pussy, my clit. It might just be aftershocks from the orgasm. But as I follow Matt down the hallway and feel the slickness of my pussy lips against my panties, I realise I want. I want him. I want the upper hand in this power exchange. And I know how to get it.

Because he won’t act on this even if he wants to, can’t act on it. Even if he doesn’t know how to fucking knock, he knows he can’t seduce a tenant, fifteen years his junior. The ball’s in my court.

“Matt, I’ll help you move that desk,” I say, lightly. Trailing him into my own room.

“Oh, uh, great,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to be casual, but his voice is strained. From the corner of my eye I can see my rumpled sheets and my vibrator still in the middle of my bed.

We shift the heavy desk carefully away from the trapdoor. Set it down, straighten up, and suddenly we’re looking at each other from either end of the desk. I can see the hunger in his eyes.

I take three deliberate steps around the desk until I’m close to him. Too close. Slightly too far into his personal space to claim any kind of accident. He’s barely breathing. I can smell him – good clean aftershave, a little tangy musk from being outside on a hot day. Can see the stubble shadow along the edge of his jaw, and I think about running my tongue along that line.

And then I do just that.

He gasps, involuntarily tilts his head back, shudders. I press my mouth against his neck and run my hands up his sides. He’s still too freaked to move, and he tries to mumble something.

But the man is practically melting in my hands.

“Shut up, Matt,” I whisper into his ear, before kissing his earlobe. I feel something change in his body and suddenly he is right there with me too, all action, moving, pulling my hips to his, seeking my mouth with his.

I taste his tongue against mine and feel him moan, our lips pressed together as we kiss with desperate urgency. His hands find my ass and he cups it as he grinds against me. I feel his cock hardening through his jeans. His body is firm under my hands: traps, pecs, abs.

We’re stumbling backward together and I don’t know who is pushing, who is pulling. Our mouths haven’t left the other’s as we fall together, his weight on top of me now as we writhe against each other on my bed. We’re both panting as he breaks away from our kiss and plants his mouth hot on my neck, my chest.

“Hang on,” I say, breathlessly, and he sits up on my bed, immediately chagrinned. I struggle up to standing.

“I-I’m so sorry – ” he starts, abashed.

“Shut up,” I snap, as he looks up at me standing in front of him. “I’m going to fuck you. I want this. I don’t care if you have a wife. I don’t want to talk about this. I just want your dick. Tell me: yes or no. Do you want this?”

He looks shell-shocked. Good. One point to me.

In a strangled voice, he says: “Yes.”

One beat of silence, stillness, and then it’s on again. I pull my t-shirt off with one hand and with the other I undo my jeans and struggle to push them down. Pull Matt’s t-shirt up, scramble to undo his belt as he reaches behind to unclasp my bra. My boobs fall forward into his face. He lets out a low, guttural moan and pulls me into his lap so I straddle him as he leaves a trail of wet kisses across my tits.

He takes one nipple into his mouth as I start grinding myself against him, finally kicking free of my jeans. I can feel his cock growing harder, rubbing just right against my clit. Separated from my wetness by layers of cotton. Layers that shouldn’t be there.

I reach down between us. He’s still got his jeans on but his fly is open. I can see a dark slick patch of precum on his boxers as his thick cocks strains against the fabric.

I lean in to lock my mouth to his, suck his tongue into my mouth as we make out. I snap the elastic of his boxers down and pull out his cock. It’s gorgeous – not long, but thick, hard, poster-boy-type stuff. I groan against his mouth as I take his velvet-hot-hardness in my hand, feel my pussy involuntarily tightening with want.

I pull my face away from his so I can breathe, and we both stare at each other through heavy-lidded eyes. I am making a mewling sound of want each time I exhale, high and breathy. I can almost feel the balance of power tipping his way, skewed by how badly I want his thick cock inside my swollen and soaked pussy.

He runs his hand over my breast, across my stomach and down the inside of my thigh. I shake as his fingers graze close to the line of my panties. He hooks the end of one finger into my panties and I raise my hips up a little so he can pull them to one side.

As I do so I see a thin strand of clear, slippery liquid stretching from my pussy to his groin. He sees it too and exhales sharply, closes his eyes and tips his head back like he’s having a religious experience.

In one smooth motion, I grab his cock, angle my hips so the flushed head of his dick is lined up with my wet pussy entrance, and I sink onto him.

I hear him gasp in surprise, moan “holy fuck,” but it barely registers. I close my eyes. This is about me. This is mine. Two points to me.

His thick cock stretches me open and I gasp, feeling his hardness reaching deep into me, feeling the way my pussy muscles grip him, the cool where the air reaches my wetness. We stay there motionless for a few seconds and then I slowly, deliberately start to roll my hips so I can feel the pressure of his cock massaging the inside of my vagina, my pussy clenching to pull him deeper.

His mouth is on my nipple, biting, and the painpleasure makes me cry out and shunt my hips forward into him. He takes this opportunity to wrap his arms around my waist, holding me in place, as he starts pushing his cock into me firm and fast. Fucking me hard as my pussy juice drips down his balls.

I can feel the pleasure radiating like sweet heat from my pussy to my ass to my thighs, everything feeling ignited by the friction of his dick pistoning into my tight pussy. My thoughts grow pinkly foggy and I am moaning repeatedly with every thrust.

I open my eyes and see his closed, his brow furrowed as he loses himself in the sensations. His grey hair damp against his forehead, sweat pooling against his collarbone as he fucks this slut who lives in the house he owns. Who he just walked in on as she was making herself come. Who, he thinks, surely must have known there was a risk he’d turn up…

We are climbing together now, my legs spread wide as I kneel in his lap, watching his cock sliding into my slippery pussy over and over, our bodies slapping together lewdly. The sex is raw, animal, single-minded, filthy. I’m dimly aware that we’re not using a condom, but I’m on birth control. Still, I thrill at the sheer sluttiness of it, marvel that I’ve made this happen. That my landlord – who I just met, who I know nothing about, who walked in on me desperately bringing myself to orgasm – is about to come inside me.

“Oh, fuuuck, Matt,” I moan, low and animal. He’s breathing hard and I can feel his abs tense as he slams his rod into me with primal urgency. My pussy is vice-like, tightening hot and purposeful around his cock, and I start gibbering a low stream of smut just for him.

“Oh god, Matt, oh fuck, I love the way you fuck me. You’re fucking me so good, your cock – you’re so hard, you’re stretching my pussy open, I love it, I love it – I’m such a slut for you, I’m your slut, I’m – oh fuck – I’m -”

“Morgan,” he growls roughly, “Come for me. Come now. Come like you did before, slut.”

It’s all I need. I draw a shuddering breath as waves of pleasure slam into me, rippling outward from his hard cock deep in the core of me, double me over, make my body judder. My pussy grips down again and again, milking my landlord’s dick.

With one final hard thrust and a long, shuddering moan, Matt buries his cock inside me and I feel it twitch deep in my belly as he shoots thick spurts of cum into me, again and again. I moan and slump against him as I feel his seed filling me.

Matt plants a soft, full-lipped kiss against my mouth as he pants and lies back, pulling me to his chest. I can feel his sticky cum seeping out of my pussy around his softening cock, slick against my thighs.

We lie still and catch our breath for a few minutes. Dazedly, I raise my head and consciousness vaguely returns to me. Matt has his eyes closed, but I can see him smirking. Two points to him.

“Never knew I had such a slut living here,” he murmurs, and suddenly I’m wide awake. There’s a calculated nuance in that sentence, sharp, made to remind me whose house it is, who the slut is. Something in me snaps. Rebels. Wants to assert dominance. Wants to claw the balance of power back.

Again, I know just how to do it.

Pulling myself up to kneeling, I shimmy my way up his body, swing my leg over him, and straddle his face, kneeling over him.

Confused, Matt opens his eyes, right as a glob of semen drips from my pussy onto his face.

“Suck your cum out of my cunt,” I hiss at him.

I revel in the look of shock in his eyes. The same look of shock that was on my face when he forgot to knock, when he found me pleasuring myself at midday on a Friday.

“Clean me up, Matt. Eat your own cum from my slutty pussy,” I command, as his mouth falls comically open, surprised.

I lower my dripping pussy onto his mouth and chuckle.

“I never knew I had such a slut for a landlord, Matt.”

Three points to me.

x

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/rdydnm/the_balance_of_power_i_fucked_my_landlord_fm