How she paid the rent [F22/M25] [masturbation] [sex]

“Go see what the hell she wants,” the text message said, “If it’s anything other than giving you $950, then tell her to pack her shit and get outta there.”

So I drove to the apartment, the one my father owned and had me manage. He and Mom spent all their time down in the Caribbean, “enjoying their retirement,” they said. That left me to be their personal servant, doing all the work of finding renters and fixing leaks and repairing air conditioners and listening to tenant complaint after complaint after complaint. And if it were up to me, I’d fix shit up. Lord knows my dad makes enough rent off his three eight-plexes to afford it.

But it’s not up to me. So I sighed and parked my twenty-year-old Honda in the spot reserved for ‘manager’ — basically the only perk of the job — and trudged up the stairs. The paint was peeling, the wood rickety and starting to crack. I made a mental note to add this to the handyman list. It was a long list.

I passed the identical doors, numbered twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two. The numerals were made from cheap brass and tacked on with small nails.

Here it was, twenty-three. I knocked.

“What?” the voice rang through the door. The window was closed, the slats pulled across.

“Landlord,” I sighed, “You said you needed to meet?”

“Oh, yeah. Come in.”

I turned the knob and pushed open the door, knowing what I’d see. A cheap, dingy apartment with a low ceiling and cheap carpet where there wasn’t cheap linoleum. And filling the space would be the tenant’s equally cheap furniture and cheap decorations.

But as I stepped inside, although the cheapness was there, the tackiness was not. She’d managed to arrange the hand-me-down couch and particle-board cabinets and plywood tables into a surprisingly tasteful configuration, with an array of real potted plants that brought a freshness to the air, and carefully-placed wall hangings that made the space feel bigger than it was.

“Uh, hello?” I said, not seeing anyone.

“You’re not the landlord.”

I had missed her. She was low to the ground, reclining on a beanbag chair. It was tucked in between a bookshelf and desk, with a small reading lamp nearby. It’s illumination was focused down, on the book next to her.

“Uh,” I stumbled, “I– I assure you, I’m the landlord.”

“No,” she shook her head, “The landlord’s an old guy. Gray hair. You’re just a kid.”

I grinned nervously. Who was she calling me a kid? She couldn’t have been been any older than me. “Oh, that’s my dad. He’s, um, put me in charge, I guess.”

She frowned. “You guess?”

“Well, no. For real. That was him you were emailing, but he told me to come over and see what it was you needed. He, um, said you were behind on the rent, too. Um…”

“Oh, am I?” She rolled forward, swinging off the beanbag and standing up in one leap. If I had tried that maneuver, I’d have fallen on my face, but she pulled it off with elegance.

“Err, uh, yes.”

“If you’re going to be a landlord,” she said, “You gotta toughen up. Otherwise your tenants will walk all over you. I’m Kimberly, by the way.” She was a head shorter than me, with auburn hair long and straight, and a thin, nimble figure in a snug, red dress. I was powerfully attracted to her. She held her hand out.

“Paul,” I said, shaking it. Her skin was warm and soft, and her eye gleamed with a knowing glint. I felt awkward and clumsy in her presence, not knowing what to do with a girl like her.

“Come,” she said, “Sit with me. I want to show you something.”

“Ok.” Right then, I would have followed her anywhere, but all that was required was a few feet into the corner of the apartment she’d made her dining room.

I sat in the chair she indicated while she took the one across from it. A backpack was on the far end of the table, and she slid a sheet of paper from it and set it down in front of me. “This is a ledger,” she said, “Of all the repairs I’ve had to perform on this crappy apartment, and how much I expect to be reimbursed.”

“Uhh…” I said, dumbly.

“You can see that I’ve had to clean the exhaust duct above the stove, rewire the refrigerator’s water supply, repair the countertop that was barely attached, replace the weather-sealing on the door and windows, and resurface the bathtub. In this column, you can see the amount I spent on materials, and here you can see what I’ve estimated as the labor costs. It’s a fair rate, I think you’ll agree.”

I rubbed the side of my head. “I… uh…” It was indeed a fair rate, and the amounts she was listing were in line with what I knew the items to cost. Yet, to get a break on the rent, this arrangement would’ve had to have been approved in advance.

She continued, “And so, you can see if you subtract all this from the nine-fifty I owe, what’s left is two-twenty-four and thirty-two cents, or let’s say two-twenty-five to make it easy.”

I furrowed my brow. “Did my dad say this was ok, for you do to this?”

She considered me, her eyes bright and calculating. “I thought you were the landlord now, not your father.”

“I… I am.”

“I can show you any of the work listed, if you want to inspect it. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I don’t know how to fix things.”

“No no! It’s not that, it’s just…”

“What?” she said, “What is it just?”

“I don’t know, I’m just taking it all in.”

She smirked. “I see. You should know that I’m studying to be a lawyer. I’m not a lawyer yet, still quite a ways from it of course. But I am learning things about our legal system, especially the landlord-tenant aspects, and I’d welcome an opportunity to try my new knowledge out in courts.”

I shook my head and groaned. This was getting worse and worse. “It–it won’t come to that.”

“There’s one other thing,” she said.

I looked up, meeting her eyes and their smirking smugness. “What?”

“The two-twenty-five I owe you? I’d like to pay it through barter.”

“Barter?” my voice squeaked. I looked around. “Bartering what?”

“This,” she said. She pushed her chair back from the table and lifted her knee up to her chest. She planted her foot on her chair, just to the side of her butt. The maneuver hiked her dress up, giving me a view of her crotch. She wore no panties, and her pussy was bare and tight and puffy.

My breath caught, my eyes bulged.

She flicked her pussy lips to the side, and I stared as they sprung back into place, taut and firm.

I whimpered.

“I’m waxed,” she said, “And I’ve bleached my ass. It’s where I spent my rent money, actually. Think it was worth it?” And as she played with herself, she slid down in the chair, giving me a view of her tight pucker.

I was frozen in place — under her spell — completely out of my element. What was I supposed to do here? I had no idea. Instead of responding, I stared.

She thumbed her clit and slid her index finger inside herself, moaning. She was really getting into it, not just putting on a show, but truly getting herself off. Her pussy grew wet as she masturbated, glistening and oozing fluid down onto her asshole. She rubbed it in, groaning and biting her lower lip.

I was transfixed, unmoving despite my breath coming heavier, my vision tunneling down to just this cute girl.

She stroked her clit, her chest heaving, her cheeks growing flush. “What would you think if I made myself cum? Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I hissed.

“Good,” she groaned, fucking herself with two fingers while massaging her clit. Her moans took on a deeper tone, coming quicker and quicker, and her pussy began spasming, then her asshole. She didn’t slow down, her fingers continuing their pace as her thighs quivered.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I sprung up and around the table and knelt down in front her, buying my face in her crotch. I licked up her pussy and sucked down her clit, spreading my slobber all over her inner thighs and pussy lips.

“Eat my ass,” she moaned.

I’d never done that before, never even thought I would, but I was in the moment. So I dropped my tongue lower, licking her pucker, then dragging my tongue up to her pussy before going back down for a second pass.

She loved it, grabbing my hair, her fists frantic and harsh as they pulled me into her.

I ate her out, finishing off what she’d started with her fingers, glancing up at her to see the arousal distorting her cute features.

She tensed and relaxed, her body falling back into the chair. I stood up, guiding her over, bending her across the table. I bunched her dress up at her waist and stood behind her. I pulled my cock out and bounced it against her ass.

“Condom!” she panted, pointing at her backpack.

I pulled her bag over and she fished one out, and with my cock properly dressed, I shoved myself into her. She was tight and hot and perfect and my dick was in heaven. I grabbed her ass, pumping myself into her, watching her pussy lips stretch around my girth, watching her asshole twitch. I thumbed it as my hips pounded into her.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she moaned, the table scootching on the ground beneath her, knocking over the chair on the opposite side, ruining her apartment’s feng shui.

I knew I was near, so I pulled her up, cupping her tits as I held her against my chest. Her hair splayed in my face, her scent filled my nose. It was impossibly hot, and I came, my hips bucking into her, the ecstasy washing through me a wave of cold relief. “Fuck,” I groaned eloquently.

I collapsed back into her chair, and, leaning against her table, she looked down at me. “That was fun.”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” I shook my head, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

“With who? Your girlfriend?”

I blinked. “My dad. The rent.” I wandered into her kitchen, throwing away the condom and washing my hands.

“What?” she said, “Who cares about that? You’ll figure something out.”

I looked at her, her clothes still disheveled, her hair still askew. “Are you going to pay your rent, like, with money next month?”

Her eyebrows lifted, and the beginnings of a smile emerged on her lips before slowly spreading out, taking over her whole face. “You didn’t have a good time?”

“I’ve never done that before, you know, paid for sex. Is two-twenty-five even a fair price?”

At that, she burst into laughter. “I have no idea. I’m not a prostitute. You were just cute and I could tell into me and I wanted to fuck. Worked out pretty well, I’d say.”

I had crossed her apartment to make my exit, but I lingered in her doorway. “Next month, I need the rent for real.”

“Yes, sir,” she giggled, eyes gleaming, “But you’ll have to come pick up the check in person.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/126xekn/how_she_paid_the_rent_f22m25_masturbation_sex