The Landlord New Release

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A student is in dire straits.
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I was not planning to tell this story of my past, because it´s not the nicest one and I banned the memories into a remote corner of my brain, but it came back to me when I read the local newspaper a week ago and saw a certain death announcement and remembered the name and what was my connection to that now late man...

Chapter 1

It was in the late eighties while I was at the university when I somehow had a streak of bad luck. I just lost my part time job as a waitress in a students pub when the owner got bankrupt and wasn't even able to pay the staff last month's salary. I spent too much money on a holiday with my boyfriend in an attempt to keep our relationship, but in vain; we quarrelled most of the time and in the end we split and not wanting to drive home with him from Southern France I took a train which ate up even more of my small savings. Finally it was time to present my old BMW 60/6 motorbike to the state security inspection and I knew without a new set of tires I would never pass it, as my tires had almost no more profile and looked more like racing slicks. To make things even worse was the fact that I always fancied nice clothing and shoes and went through a kind of "shopping orgy" to overcome my grief and anger of the split up with my boyfriend.

So at the beginning of the month I had to decide to either starve or "forget" about paying the rent for my small two rooms flat. I did that sometimes before, knowing the landlord; an elderly widowed man running a greengrocer shop did accept a later payment. But things did not turn to the better side; though I tried hard I could not get another job that allowed me to go on with my studies as well, the bike insurance was due and after a while I owed three months rent to the landlord. So I was not too astonished when he intercepted me on the staircase on late afternoon when I was coming some from university, asking me politely to have a word with him in his office. I followed him to his flat on the first floor of his house and sat down in the small room he called his office. I had been there before and somehow admired how the man was trying to keep the place tidy and in shape. His furniture was old and sure out-fashion, but I think he did not care. But this time all looked a bit deranged, papers piled up and dust covered and a saw a battery of empty bottles on the floor. He himself looked a bit worn out, he had not shaved, the collar of his shirt was a bit dirty and I knew that from time to time he was drinking a lot.

He lowered hi overweight body on a chair behind his desk, sighed and told me his sad story of times being hard and so on and on. Eventually he grabbed at a bottle of Jaegermeister, a strong alcohol made from herbs, took two glasses of a shelf behind him, poured an ample shot into them, put one in front of me and said that my rent was more than overdue and we have to discuss matters. He then lifted his glass, toasted to me and swallowed the alcohol down. I personally hate that special drink, but trying to be polite, I nibbled at it. Then I explained my situation, ensuring that I will pay as soon as possible. He sighed, granted himself another glass, refilled mine without asking me and went on talking. Yes, he can understand me and he always has a heart for students; he himself wanted to study when he was young, but never had the money and then married too young. He said he would like to give me a job in his shop but he can only afford two part time helpers, students like me and he cannot fire them just to help me to get that job.

I then offered to help him in the house, cleaning up the place and taking care of it or do other work. He was at his third glass by that time, looking a little gloomily at me.

"Well," he said, "that an be a start, but you know how much you owe me and even if I pay you a bit more than the usual money for a cleaning woman, it is not going to pay it up. And you know, I like you, but times are hard and I really don´t want to kick you out of the flat"

A bit shocked by this immanent threat I stammered that I have no idea what else to do, but would hate to lose the room. He stared at me, swallowed another drink, opened the file on his desk and looking through it stated that by now I owe him about 1200 D-mark. Then in a low sad voice he told me that he is a widower now since 3 years and that he sometimes long for company and maybe, if I am nice, we can find a solution to the problem.

My back stiffened at these words and I hoped I misunderstood. But he repeated it, adding again that he would hate to expel me from my flat. He stood up; refilling the glasses again and taking it in his hand he came round the desk.

"What do you think, do we have a deal?" he asked, "if yes, let's drink on it!"

My mind was racing, pondering on the consequences; the flat was ok and close to the university. I was at the moment unable to find a new decent paid job and I hated the idea to sell my motorbike, which anyway would not help me that much, as it was old and as it was autumn, selling it now would not bring me much more then the money for my debts plus the rent for next month and a bit for living. I knew about some other girls at the university in a similar situation who were working in an escort service, but always denied that way for myself. I never was prude or shy, but thought that would really turn me into becoming a whore. And now this...!!!

But on the other side it would solve my imminent financial problems and I told myself it will only be for a while till I find another job and earn money again. And besides, what could this old man at about his sixties do? I had some experience with elder men who sometimes late at night came to the pub, looking for a student girl to pick up and knowing the psychology of tip and looking quite good I sometimes played the game when serving them drinks, flirting and allowing them little freedoms like eventually touching me when I passed by; though I never went much farther than that. With these thoughts I tried to sooth myself, telling me it will not going to be too bad. So I took the glass raised it up in a toast, looked him into his eyes and nodded.

"Very good,"

the expression of his face changed to a big smile as the swallowed his drink and put his plump hand on my shoulder.

"I knew that you will be sensible and we will find an arrangement. And, please, I know that you have some nice clothing, I sometimes saw and admired your look when I saw you going out, so please wear some like that in future when you come here. I love to see a woman dressed up like a woman and not like this."

His fingers gripped at the cloth of my thick sweater I wore together with jeans that day. His hand travelled deeper down my shoulder and along my side, feeling up the sides of my breast.

"Ok, I will," I said, rising up, "but right now I have to leave, I have some urgent work to do for my lecture tomorrow."

"Oh, yes, it´s important that you do not miss your studies," he answered," you know I always wanted to become a lawyer or a doctor, but - alas - fate had else in store for me."

He was drunk by now and swayed a bit, as I stepped aside and thus got rid of his hand on my body.

"I see you off." In an almost funny looking gesture he showed me the way out of his office and to his front door. He opened it and let me pass onto the staircase, but as I stepped past him, he pinched my ass and said

"I see you tomorrow evening then."

I suppressed a sigh, just nodded and went up to my room. I closed my door behind me, poured down a big glass of mineral water to get over the bad taste of that alcohol and though not really in a hurry to do it, I started to read, trying to distract my mind from what happened a moment ago.

The next day went by quite eventless and I came home by five o'clock in the afternoon. When I opened my mailbox I found a piece of paper which in a bit clumsy handwriting said >Meet me for a dinner at 8 in my flat. -G. - < I silently sighed, being not too sure I would like the idea, as I don´t believe that man is a chef. Or does he want me to cook for him? Remembering his words I showered and when it was time I put on normal underwear, a white bra and matching hip panties and a nice medium-long brown skirt and a matching blouse. I put on a little make-up and did my shoulder long brunette hair and stepped into dark brown pumps. I checked my appearance in my mirror and was content with my look; feminine but not provoking or too hot. I stepped down the stairs to the flat of my landlord and rang the bell.

He opened immediately, as if he had already been waiting behind the door and was a bit astonished by the way he looked. He had shaved and put on an a bit old fashioned, but nice suit and even slung a tie around his big neck. He bade me to come in and lead me to his living room. There the next surprise was waiting for me, as I saw plates with Chinese food on the table. He played the perfect gentleman, adjusting the chair for me to sit down.

"I hope you like the food; I know that you sometimes eat at the Chinese restaurant close to my shop. As I am not really much of a cook I ordered a dinner from them."

It was true, I love Chinese food and besides, the lunch time specials at that restaurant are not only good, but as well quite cheap.

"Yes, thank you," I answered. Then he produced a bottle of white wine and filled the glasses on the table. "On a nice evening!" he toasted me and we drank. The wine was a bit too sweet for my taste, but I did not complain, as anything was better then Jaegermeister again.

During the dinner the conversation was mainly executed by him, asking me a lot of questions of my studies and personal things, which I answered friendly and polite, but not giving away too much on myself. Inevitable he then started again to talk of his past, the hard times with his small shop fighting against the supermarkets and his lonely life. His only joy is the card game evenings with his friends. Again he was drinking too much and soon opened another bottle. I just nibbled at my glass and drank sparingly, mostly only when he asked me to and reached out to refill my glass. Seeing my chance to distract him from the idea of getting "romantic" I told him that I too like card games and maybe we can play a bit after dinner.

He stared at me and somehow almost absent minded he said that this is a nice idea.

We finished the excellent food and I rose to clear the table and bring the dishes out to the kitchen. I was about to put water in the sink to do the washing up as he stepped in, went up close behind me and putting his hands on my hips told me that I should leave that alone. He said that the cleaning woman he hired anew to help him once a week will do it. >Aha, I thought, he saw the need that his place needs cleaning. If that's a side effect of him wanting me to accompany and see him, I did a good thing. What I was not so keen on was his wandering hands that went down from my hips to pat and rub my ass cheeks, but I soothed myself, that I could stand that. But anyway I sidestepped to avoid his hands and went back to the living room.

He followed a bit later and to my dismay he carried that bottle of Jaegermeister and two glasses again. Pouring in a quite liberal dose he said that he likes the way I am dresses up tonight and he asked me my size.

"It´s 38," I answered, a bit puzzled why he asked me that and I went on joking, "you don´t plan to buy me a dress, do you?"

"Maybe," he said with a bit enigmatic smile on his face, "what you wear right now is nice, but I really admired some of the clothing you wore in summer, especially those short wide swinging skirts and your bareback tops."

>I am sure those made your eyes pop out< I thought, but aloud I answered in a casual tone "oh yes, those; I wore them when I went to the beach."

"You go to the beach in the night?" he replied with a wicked smile,

"Don´t tell me that!" "Well, I meant beach parties," I hastened to answer

>seemed that man was watching my steps, have to be careful what I say<

"Remember we have a deal," he said in a voice suddenly cold, "and you better don´t tell me stupid stories or lies! And now you go up to your room and change exactly to that outfit!"

I was a bit shocked by the sudden change, but fearing the consequences I stood up, saying "as you wish" and left to do as ordered. In my room I thought for a moment to trick him a bit and keep my bra on, but it would show under the backless top, so I decided against it. But nevertheless I did not remove my pantyhose or changed to the g-strings I usually wore under that short skirt. I felt a bit uneasy when I walked down to my landlords place again. He opened the door and eyed at me, obviously we had had some more drinks while I was away. His face was red and he had removed his jacket and loosened his tie. "Yes, much better this way," he said in a bit blurry voice as he led me to the room again. Beer and the usual bottle of Jaegermeister were standing on the table in front of a couch and his TV - set was on, showing some western movie.

With a grunt he sat down onto the couch, took from his drink and repeated: "Yes, very much better. Stay there and turn around and let me have a good look at you!" I did as ordered, slowly spinning around.

"Come closer!"

I stepped forward and stopped in front of him.

"Closer. And then turn your back to me!"

Again I obeyed standing as close as possible to the edge of the couch, but some inches away from his leg. I noticed him straightening up and reach out, his hands at my calves. They slowly moved up to my knees and up my thighs. His left rested there just at the hem of my skirt while he took away his right just to land on the small of my bare back. Wearing pantyhose I had not felt it before, but I shuddered a bit as his plump somehow cold hand travelled up my back. It stopped at my shoulder blade, then veered sideward and his fingers tried to get under the material of the top at the side of my breast, but it clang tight and he did not manage to get his thick fingers under it. He snorted somehow frustrated but then was content to feel up the side of my ample breasts through the thin cloth... His left hand disappeared, but only to grab at his glass and empty it, before it returns to my sigh, this time reaching under my skirt.

Suddenly I felt a sudden pain, as his hand slapped my ass and he said:

"Didn't I tell you to dress up like in summer? I don't think you wore those pantyhose then. Remove them... now!"

I felt embarrassed knowing that I had to lift up my skirt up to my hips to pull off the pantyhose, but another slap made me to do it. Even though I turned my back to him I almost physically felt his eyes on me as I reached down to get hold of the waistband of my pantyhose. I pulled them down as fast as I could, but had to bend forward to get off of my shoes and remove the clothing. I knew that in this position that short skirt was barely covering my ass and I did not want him to get that view longer than necessary and rose up again as soon as I had stepped out of the pantyhose.

"Very good," I heard him say, "now sit down and have a drink with me...

No, not there" he added, as I was about to walk round the table to sit on the far end of the couch, "stay close and sit down on daddy's knee!"

Oh, my god, this started to become unpleasant, but I had no choice but to do as ordered, at least it was not painful to sit on his plump fat thigh. His belly was pressed against my back as he clang his one arm around my waist, the other reaching out for his glass again. Given a small chance to evade that strong liquor I grabbed at a bottle of beer and took a sip. Putting his glass back onto the table he again tried to get his thick fingers into the sides of my top, but failed again. After some futile attempts he stopped it but reached further round to cup my breasts. Feeling them up and weighing them like he would weigh melons in his shop he breathed deep in pleasure.

"Yes, I always knew that you have fine tits, "he murmured while his hands were groping them, "loved the way they dance and move when you passed by in summer wearing nothing under your top or blouse." His fingers circled and tried to get to my nipples. Unfortunately I am very sensible there, even some cold breeze makes my nipples to react and get hard. So, even as the whole situation was in no way a turn-on for me, I felt my nipples raise and press against the thin material of my tight top.

"Seems you like it," he says, thinking that I got aroused by the play of his fingers,

"want to see them now!" Again he tried to reach under my top. Fearing that he might tore it I raised my arms, pushed aside my hair and opened the neckholder clip. Now the top got lose and he was able to lay his hand on my bare flesh. His fingers started to twist and twirl my nipples, making me moan, a sound that he misjudged again as being one of pleasure. He roughly grabbed at my breasts, pushing down the top totally and forced me to turn around. His eyes went big as he now had a full view at my bare breasts. He lifted them up and let them fall again and then with some effort, as his fat belly was in the way, he leant forward and his wet fleshy lips started to suck at my tits.

I let him have his way for a while. Then withdrew and stood up, stating that I had to see the toilet. Reluctantly he let me go. Reaching for his bottle again. He was heavily drunk now and I slipped out of the room, went to the toilet, put on my top again and stayed there for quite a while. As I hoped he was fallen asleep when I returned, his oversized body lying in a strange position on the couch. I grabbed at my pantyhose on the ground and left his flat, wishing him silently to have a real bad headache and backache, when he wakes up.

That evening was in no way nice, I admitted to myself, after I had showered and were in my bed, but it could have been worse.

Stupid me, I had no idea what ordeal was still awaiting me.

Chapter 2

Somehow I managed the next couple of days to avoid running into the landlord by chance and to my relief I did not find a new message in my mailbox. I was even thinking that he may forget about everything being satisfied with what he had. So I was not really thinking about that deal when I came home late, having been at the universities film club to watch a crazy Japanese movie. I entered the house and rushed up the stairs and was to pass by the landlord's door when it suddenly swung open. There he stood, grabbing at my arm and saying:

"Come in, I have a present for you!"

With a sigh I followed him into his living room. It looked like at my last visit, a bottle of booze, half emptied, and some beer on the table and the TV was showing an old movie. He sat down and pointed to a black plastic bag on the shelf;

"that's for you. Open it and put it on!"

I turned round and found some red thin cloth. Wondering what it was I unfolded it and was a bit shocked, as it turned out to be a kind of fishnet dress. It looked cheap and was definitely not from a clothing shop, but looked more like those one can buy at porn toy shops. The material felt like pure synthetics and I was sure, it would in no way fit me.

"You like it?" the landlord asked, staring at me.

"Well," I answered, "it looks very ... hmm ... special."

"So put it on now!" he commanded. I hesitated and then took the dress in my hand and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Upstairs to change," I replied.

"No, you put it on right here and now," was his answer,"I want to watch you!"

I did not like the idea, but shrugged my shoulders and took off my jacket and blouse, then slipped out of my jeans. standing there in my bra and panties. I reached for the dress to pull it over when his voice stopped me.