The Mousy Landlord: Apartment Maintenance 101 [MF] [Part2]

*[ You may recognize this story. I’m reposting it, as my last account was deleted. Originally posted a year and a half or so ago. Hope that’s ok. ]*

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**The Mousy Landlord: Apartment Maintenance 101**

After my last impromptu hot-n-heavy meet-n-greet with my new landlord, (check my post history), I didn’t expect a second go with her. I assumed she had gotten her fill, and that would be it. But after six weeks or so had passed without so much as a peep from her end, I got a little in my head. I mean, I told myself it was fine, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’m used to getting at least some form of a follow up, so I spiraled a bit, wondering if I had under-performed that day. It hit especially hard when I thought about the potential reality wherein, she was celibate for four months, fucked me, and then RETURNED to celibacy. Fuck, am I trash in bed? Either way, I wasn’t going to be the one to re-initiate. BUT, I did have a problem with the unit.

Two lightbulbs in the cheap chandelier that hung from the ceiling near the entrance to the apartment had gone out, and when I stood on a chair from the kitchen and reached in to change them, I realized the bulbs were some sort of specialty bulb(?) and I had no idea where to get replacements. So, I did what any tenant would. I texted my landlord.

She replied with a terse, “We’ll send someone over.” Got it. That was that.

The next day, I heard the doorbell ring. (I had no idea that the little brass lever thing on my front door was a doorbell, so that was neat). Not expecting anyone, I went over to let in who I assumed was the maintenance guy, who had unclogged the drain in my shower a few weeks after I had moved in. I opened the door and to my surprise, found my little landlord standing there with a small ladder under her arm. “Oh, hey!” I said, with probably a little too much excitement. She set down the ladder, reached into her MOMA tote bag, and pulled out two weird looking orbs in plastic packaging.

“Got the bulbs.” she said matter-of-factly.

“Awesome, thanks for coming by so quick.”

She nodded with a half-smile, then walked past me and into my apartment. I watched as her black and white striped skirt swayed between her slender legs as she set up the ladder below the fake-news chandelier. Even though the tone was markedly less flirty than last time, I was still happy to see her. I found her adorable, and kind, and a genuine breath of fresh air as far as landlords go.

I laughed to myself as she struggled to get the lightbulbs out of their plastic packaging, too entertained to help. (AITA?) Finally she cracked open the packaging. I then stood back and watched her carefully climb the steps up to the chandelier. That’s when I saw it. Her retort. Her answer to my grey sweatpants and thin pajamas I had worn during our first few interactions. I saw what I assumed she wanted me to see: Her freshly shaven, entirely petite, delectably cute little pussy.

Her slit stared down at me clear as day as she reached up above her head to haphazardly unscrew the burnt out bulb. Taking her cue, I quietly took off my jeans, under which I was wearing a pair of ultra short jogging shorts that I had been issued during my years of cross-country in high school. (Why weren’t you wearing underwear? Because my laundry was coin-op and I never got used to that and was constantly wearing dirty clothes and yes it was gross.)

“Can you hand me the other bulb?” She asked, as though nothing was amiss. I grabbed the strange looking bulb and passed it up to her. When she bent down to take it from me, she wobbled a bit, prompting me to grab her by the calves to stabilize her. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” I said, now looking directly up at her beautiful cunt. I relocated my hands higher up her legs, for stability of course. Ok, maybe a little higher than I needed to. As I stood there gazing up at her pussy, watching it twitch and skew with the awkward and strained movements of her body, I asked myself, what are the chances I’m being presumptuous? What are the chances that she chose to wear a skirt (seemingly atypical based on the few wardrobe choices I’d observed of her previously) with no panties, knowing that she would be elevated like this? Slim right? But then again, I knew girls in college who would go commando simply for the freedom it allowed. But also, they were usually aware of the implication. Right? Shit, I’m in the same spot as last time, I thought to myself.

She screwed in the final bulb and asked me to flip the light switch to check if they worked. I flipped the switch and the front room filled with a familiar uneasy yellow-hued light. She began to work her way down the ladder, and without thinking, I supported her descent by holding her ass. Fuck! This isn’t one of your guy friends, this is a small female, alone with you! Instinctively, I let go.

This was a mistake. By quickly removing the support, I robbed her of her balance, and she began to sway backwards, prompting me to do what I now had no choice but to do, which was, ironically enough, to grab her ass and push her weight back onto the ladder.

She laughed, a moment of levity I appreciated. “You’ve touched it before.” She said with that same unreadable half-smile. She was almost mystical in the way she communicated, or maybe that is just me romanticizing social awkwardness in a pretty dress. Once again, my inner corny schmuck came out when I responded with, “and I’d touch it again.”

She looked at me as though I was a painting on the wall, like she was trying to make sense of some abstract form. What’s so confusing? It was just a bad joke, leave me alone, no need for glares.

“Would you?”

Yes yes yes yes! In my head, I was rejoicing. Holy shit, since when do I care this much? Since when did this 31 year old bookish shylock’s pussy hold so much power over me? I don’t know. No time to think.

“Yes. Of course.” I said with false confidence. Why was it false? What happened to the power dynamic that was in place six weeks ago? I didn’t have time to introspect, as she bent over her tote bag and began rustling around in it the second those affirmative words left my mouth.

“I know it’s in here somewhere,” she said. Or at least, I think that’s what she said. I don’t have the clearest memory of what I heard, to be honest, as all my memory encoding bandwidth was going towards inscribing the image of her two perfect little lips peeking out at me, as if to say, “Oh, funny seeing you here!”

I stared, and she stalled, rifling through her bag looking for whatever it was she was, I assumed, pretending to look for. Was this– was this roleplay? Are we playing some sort of gam– Ohhh, I see. I think I’m supposed to ‘touch it again.’ I took a gamble and did just that. I reached forward and cupped her flat yet welcoming ass. I gave it a gentle squeeze. She wriggled. Game on? Don’t get ahead of yourself. But probably game on, right? “Found it.” She said, as soon as I had given my second, firmer squeeze. She popped up, turned around, and held up a condom.

“Wow, ok!” I said with what now felt like an appropriate level of enthusiasm. We hadn’t used a condom last time, so I assumed she had become sexually active since. I was happy for her. Unfortunately I had to provide her with an embarrassing disclaimer. “Just a heads up though, I like, just– I just masturbated,” I said, grimacing at the pain I felt as I admitted it, “so I might not be up for it right away.” Her eyebrows shot up. Surprise? Maybe it was disappointment? I didn’t allow myself, or her, the time to decide how she felt. I was taking charge. I felt I had the green light.

I, just like last time, I gently took hold of her shoulders and guided her back towards the ladder. I lightly pushed her down onto the second lowest step, so that she was sitting comfortably. She seemed lost. Quickly, I dropped to my knees and slid her skirt (my guess? She had just bought it.) up to her waist, revealing her truly, and I mean TRULY delicious looking pussy, just starting to glisten, only a tad. (Seriously, it was at this point I realized that possibly her best asset was the pure aesthetic value of her vag. It was like an unrealistically perfect painting of a vagina.

Then, her smell hit me, and like a cartoon cat smelling a nearby pie, I was immediately pulled into her crotch, wanting nothing but to exist as close as possible to the source of that irresistible scent. Sweet, yet raw. I wanted a taste, ASAP. She leaned over to her side and twisted the plastic rod hanging from the window, closing the blinds. “Good call.” I said, my voice muffled by her soft thin thighs that now held my head firmly in place.

With our privacy ensured, I began what I believe to be one of the highest honors a man can experience. (I told you: corny at heart). I dove in.

Her pussy was like velvet. My tongue felt like it belonged between her lips, the wetness from my mouth became one with her juices, which I coaxed out of her more and more with each lap of my eager tongue. I twisted my head slowly as I worked my way around every micrometer of her interior, making sure no section went unexplored. After getting her pussy thoroughly wet, and after covering the lower half of my face in a layer of her scrumptious juices, I firmed up my tongue and pushed into her, parting her tightness as I licked the roof of her cunt. I must have hit a spot, because her hand whipped down onto my head, and honestly it kind of hurt. I’m not usually into pain during sex, but it was hot.

Suddenly her back was arched, like almost comically far, and she told me to “stay there.” I kept pressure on that special spot while she gyrated (or tried to) around my head and tongue. It didn’t look pretty, but if it felt good to her, which it seemed to, I was more than satisfied.

After a few moments of goofy half-twerking on this rickety ladder, she relaxed and un-arched her back, allowing me to resume my exploration. I pulled my tongue out of her, and spent some time on her outer lips, feeling her silky smooth skin across my tongue. I wondered how she got such a clean shave, she had a real bush going on last time I was here.

I lifted her legs up above my head, giving me a clearer view of her now sopping wet snatch. I had been mostly eating Top Ramen due to low funds, so I wanted to take a good look at what would surely be the best meal of my week. I went back in, basking in her leaking slit, almost bathing my face in it. She didn’t seem to mind my fanaticism. In fact, I noticed a coy, full (not-half, full) smile on her face. It had been a while.

I honed in on her clit, letting it live comfortably in my mouth, like a tenant. I laughed internally. Who’s the landlord now? After I was done being a loser, I refocused my efforts on her pleasure, sucking her clit oh-so-gently, a move I had come to consider somewhat of a finisher. I rocked my head in and out of her crotch, pushing and pulling her clit tenderly, swirling the tip of my tongue around it, faster and harder with each revolution, all while still creating a light vacuum. After a few moments of this, she was grinding her tight little sweet spot into my face, and I couldn’t have been happier in that moment. So glad I took this place instead of the one with the balcony across the street. Although it did have central air…

“Mmmmhmmm I’m– Ohhh, yeah I’m– ahh I’m coming.” I didn’t let up as she seemed to tense every muscle in her body, before deflating, and then semi-collapsing around my head. If she were normal sized, said collapse would have snapped my neck. I pushed her back against the ladder and stood up, my cock now pointing straight out from my body with zero regard for the poor excuse for shorts I had on. She looked up from her pleasure induced haze. Her eyes met my now adamantine cock. “Now I don’t think I can have sex.” She said, breathlessly.

“That’s fine!” And it was. I was more than happy to slurp up her juicy goodness and call it a day. I reached down for my jeans.

“Wait–.” She said sternly. I halted. “I mean, I could return the favor?” God she was adorable. Return the favor. I flashed back to freshman year of highschool, and even then I think the phrase would’ve induced some cringe. But somehow she owned it. It was cute when she said it. Or maybe I was just intoxicated from all the vaginal liquors I had just been doused in.

Without a word, I pulled my jeans back down, along with my dumb-shorts. Seemingly still fatigued, she beckoned for me to come to her. She wasn’t getting up, that much was clear. I waddled towards her with my weird pants/shorts combo around my ankles, and angled my cock towards her tiny mouth. She opened her mouth and I genuinely thought it was a yawn, until she leaned forward and closed her gaping lips around the top third of my shaft. She swirled her tongue around my pumped up cock head, mirroring my technique on her clit. It felt good, not great.

Folks, the head was OK. She slobbered all over my shaft in a sort of ravenous fashion, that was hot aesthetically but didn’t do a ton in the way of sensation. But, it was hot to watch, like being in your own porn. I think she was imitating porn? I don’t know. Regardless of where she picked up her technique, she had one thing down: She knew to work the underside of my cock head. It was like she had read the blowjob sparknotes.

Once I was fully, rock-type-pokémon-hard, she gripped the base of my shaft TIGHT, forcing even more blood into my already very full dick head. Then, carefully, just as she had cautiously approached the chandelier, she began licking, tongue-flicking, slurping, sucking, and every other wet verb, right on the underside of my head. At first I thought ‘hey that’s kind of cheating’ but that was a dumb thing to think because it ultimately did feel really good, and I had never had anyone really focus on one spot during oral like that.

After a few more moments of targeted wetness on that sweet spot, I was there. I was THERE. I was going to explode, and I hadn’t expected to get there so fast. My carnal intuition told me to thrust, so I did, and in doing so, caused her to gag on my cock as I started to ejaculate with force. Still cumming, disoriented by the unexpected ecstasy, I pulled away, hoping to not choke her further. She grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled me back in, sort of clumsily motioning for me to continue thrusting. I followed her lead, and fucked her miniature mouth a few times while I expelled the last few spurts of warm cum into her mouth and down her throat.

Drained, and certainly not wanting to literally asphyxiate her with my dick, I pulled out. A thin string of saliva remained intact between the tip of my dick and her lower lip. She batted it away like a disgruntled cat. Ah, there she is. My landlord.

We both got up. I pulled on my shorts, and jeans, while she dusted herself off. (Which was strange. You got dust on you? How? Lol.) We both looked at eachother and just sort of nodded. A ‘that was fun’ kind of nod. She held up the condom and made a silly face that I won’t translate into a quote because I could not possibly do so, one of those untranslatable moments. She tossed it into her bag along with the leftover plastic packaging from the lightbulbs.

She reached over and flicked the lights on and off a few times, before asking, “anything else wrong with the unit?” There was. Since moving in, the sink had slowly become pretty awful. But this woman had just sucked my soul out of my body through my cock, so I wasn’t about to complain about water pressure.

“Nope, all good!” I said with a smile.

“Great, let me know if anything else comes up.”

She looked at me and adjusted her glasses, as though she was waiting for me to say something, but I had nothing, and knew that in those moments if I forced it, something dumb would come out.

She gave a final nod, turned, and left my apartment, leaving me alone, yet satisfied, in the uneasy yellow light.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/pmx07w/the_mousy_landlord_apartment_maintenance_101_mf