The Landlady (3)
“Since things have come this far,” I said, “I think I’ll let myself go a little too.”
“Hmm? Wh-what do you mean?”
Before she could finish answering, I sealed her lips with mine.
“Hah—”
I slid my tongue into her mouth. Startled, she kept trying to pull away, so I cupped the back of her neck and drew her in hard. Once my tongue was inside her, she hesitated for a beat—then offered her own, wrapping it softly around mine.
A wet, greedy sound filled the space between us.
The moment she accepted my tongue and the kiss truly began, I no longer needed to hold her by the nape. If anything, she started taking the lead, sucking hungrily at my saliva as if she meant to drink every drop.
Ten years. Of course a kiss after that long would feel intoxicating.
Still kissing her, I let my hands drift down and slowly gathered the hem of her dress, lifting it. She raised her hips just enough to help—not as a conscious choice, but as something her body remembered on its own.
When the fabric cleared her stomach, she broke the kiss long enough to pull the dress off entirely. Then her tongue was back in my mouth.
In nothing but panties and a bra, she leaned into me and explored every corner of my mouth, wet and insistent.
I held her waist with one hand and cupped her ass with the other, sweeping down the length of her thighs. Then I hoisted her up and settled her across my lap.
She flinched, startled for a second—then locked her arms around my neck and kissed me properly. For someone who claimed it had been ages, her kiss was fierce and rough. And yet, in the softer moments when her tongue circled mine with care, I could almost picture the younger woman she used to be.
I stroked her body as she sat astride my knees—starting at her back, following the curve of her waist, kneading her ass, teasing the outer line of her thighs. She twitched in my arms, her whole body broadcasting how worked up she was.
A muffled moan vibrated against my tongue.
I unhooked the clasp behind her. Her breasts pushed free of the bra with a soft jolt. I slid the straps off her shoulders, stripped the bra away completely, and filled my hands with her.
Another moan bloomed inside my mouth.
They weren’t large, but they filled my palms with a firm, solid weight. Her nipples, pressed into my skin, had already hardened with her arousal.
The hand that had been on her chest drifted lower. I caught the waistband of her panties and eased them down. She grabbed my wrist as if to stop me—but her body, melted by the kiss, had no strength left. The panties came off the way I wanted them to. When they reached her knees, she bent her legs and kicked them free herself.
My hand slipped along the inside of her thigh, stroking upward toward the heat between her legs. Her skin was silky, soft in a way that said she took care of herself. Higher still—and then my fingertips brushed the coarse thatch of her pubic hair.
She was soaked.
I barely grazed the tips of those hairs and my fingers came away dripping. I wanted to taste her.
I stood, lifting her with me in one motion, and carried her bridal-style toward the master bedroom.
“Th-that one,” she whispered, pointing with a trembling fingertip.
I went straight there and pushed the door open. I laid her on the big bed almost roughly, then stripped myself bare.
Naked, she propped herself up on her elbows, one hand covering herself, and looked at me.
“Are you… really okay doing this with me?”
Worry was written all over her face. The age gap was twenty-four years—nearly as many years as I’d been alive. More than that, the fact that I was the same age as her own son must have felt, to her, like something close to a sin.
“Can’t Mom do it with me?”
Silence.
As if she still hadn’t decided, even in her own head, what she was supposed to do. Letting a man come in her mouth and actually having sex were not the same thing. Sex was the act of sharing something deep inside each other’s bodies. Once you put that period on it, the relationship moved somewhere it couldn’t go back from.
“Then I’ll get dressed,” I said.
“No. Son—no.”
Her voice came out urgent. I wanted more certainty than that. If I had it, I thought, both of us might finally feel freer.
“No to what?”
“Do it…”
The landlady dropped her gaze, cheeks burning, and spoke so quietly I almost missed it.
I pressed harder.
“Do what?”
A few seconds of silence. Then she opened her mouth.
“Have sex with me. Son.”
“Then lie down.”
She lay back on the bed, still covering herself with one hand. Light from the living room spilled through the open doorway and painted her body in soft gold.
I bent her knees and eased them apart. When I took the hand she was using to hide herself and guided it away, it followed mine without resistance.
Between neatly kept pubic hair, her arousal glistened, and the pink flesh beneath came into view. For ten years no man had seen this—and it looked almost like a girl’s, ripe and inviting. When I gently parted her folds, the wetness clung thick and syrupy.
I stretched my tongue and dragged it slowly from bottom to top.
“Haaah—”
Her body arched as if a current had shot through her, hips lifting off the mattress with a sharp, startled cry. I did it again, pressing harder this time, licking up the full length of her.
“God—son!”
She gasped and fisted the sheets. Two strokes of my tongue and her breathing was already ragged. Her chest rose and fell hard; warm breath filled the room.
“Hnn—son, that feels so good—”
I kept pushing my tongue into her, coating my mouth in her slickness, then sealed my lips and sucked, drawing more of it out of her in wet, hungry pulls.
“I’m going crazy—Mom’s going to die—hnn—”
The hands that had been clutching the sheets found my hair and dragged me closer. I spread her wider and drove my tongue as deep as it would go.
“It feels too good—hnn—I want to suck you too—”
Still working her with my mouth, I twisted around, climbed over her, and brought my cock to her face. She grabbed it at once and took me into her mouth, sucking like she’d lost her mind.
A man her son’s age between her lips while that same man ate her out—whatever shame she’d been holding onto was gone. She was pure hunger now.
We went at each other without restraint. The landlady, especially, poured out every scrap of desire she’d been bottling up for years. The tongue working my cock from below moved with a restless, serpentine energy, tireless and desperate.
We stayed like that for a long time, devouring each other—until the pleasure I’d been holding back started to thrash. If I kept going, I was going to come in her mouth again.
I pulled free with a wet sound.
She looked up at me the way a child looks at a candy that’s just been taken away. I rose onto my knees and shifted between her spread thighs, lining myself up against her.
The landlady swallowed hard. Anticipation of what was about to enter her had her tongue darting out again and again to wet her lips. The foreplay had already been more than enough.
I pushed in.
My cock, rigid and ready, slid into the softness my tongue had prepared without hesitation.
“Khh—”
A single broken sound left her, and then her breathing stopped. The shock of it seemed to short-circuit her whole body; she went rigid, as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. When I drew back, air rushed into her lungs in a long, shuddering exhale.
“Haaaa—”
I thrust in again.
“Haaah—nnh—”
Her body bowed like a drawn bow, every muscle singing with the sensation.
“Son—I’m losing my mind—it’s been so long—hnn—”
I started moving my hips in a slow, steady rhythm, working in and out of her. The cock filling her after so many empty years seemed to hit her with pleasure and relief at once; her fists knotted in the sheets and trembled.
That morning we’d been joking about playing mom and son. Now we were naked on a bed, fucking each other senseless.
“Son—it feels so good—hnn—”
“Does it? What feels good?” I asked, breath rough.
I wanted dirtier words out of her.
“Th-that—your cock—”
“What about my cock?”
“Hnn—your cock inside Mom’s pussy feels so good—”
Every stroke of my hips made her moans louder. Ten years without a man had left her almost as tight as a virgin; from the first thrust I’d had to force my way in, and that grip only wound my own pleasure tighter.
Her face was flushed scarlet, head thrown back, mouth open on those shameless sounds. Looking at her like that—this sexy, wrecked version of the landlady—I could have gone insane with regret that I’d never seen it before.
I drove deeper, pinning her with my weight.
“Hnn—hnn—son, you’re so deep—hnn—”
“If you like it this much, how did you hold out all this time?”
“I know—right? Haa—now that I’ve had your cock, what am I supposed to do—”
Every time I thrust up into her, her breasts bounced; she grabbed them herself and squeezed, feeding her own excitement.
“Whenever you want it, just say so,” I said. “Your son’s cock is always ready. Hah—”
“Then I’m going to take it every day. Just like this—filling me up—hnn—ahh—”
My hips sped up. Her cries filled the bedroom and spilled out into the living room beyond. She screamed so hard the air in the room went thick and hot.
The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder. I gripped her ass and pulled her onto me, burying myself as deep as I could go. The wetness that had been dry for years poured out of her without end—years of denied lust breaking open all at once.
A sharp current ran through me. The edge of orgasm closed in. I pulled out.
“Mom. Turn over. I’ll take you from behind.”
“Oh—from behind? Okay.”