Matt and Lauren Pt. 04

"Right," I scoffed, "I can just see you wanting to move in with my mum and dad. You don't even like them that much."

"That's not true," he replied, "they're okay ... in small doses."

He smiled at me as I fake scowled back. But I wasn't angry with him. My parents could be difficult to be around at times even for me.

"What about moving in with your mum and dad?" I asked, immediately knowing that it wouldn't work. Matt was still fucking his mum on a regular basis but if we moved in with them it could make for an awkward atmosphere.

"No, I don't think that's going to be an option," Matt replied, obviously reading my mind.

"So what then ..." I said.

Matt just shook his head slowly and shrugged his shoulders. "We'll have to give it some thought. We're okay for about another month but we'll have to have sorted something out by then."

* * * * *

Two months later and we were still no closer to solving our problem. Matt had no more commission to come and there was no chance of me getting another pay rise anytime soon. We tried cutting back on just about everything but it seemed to make no difference, we were still way short of covering the rent. And then the boiler broke down. It was supposed to be new but now knowing what kind of man Mr Croft was, it probably wasn't.

So far we'd managed to avoid any contact with our landlord but we needed the boiler working so Matt bit the bullet and rang and asked him to send a plumber around to fix it. He mumbled he would sort it and abruptly hung up.

"Did he say when he was coming," I asked Matt.

"No, he just said he would come and fix it but didn't say what day," Matt replied.

"Matt, we need it fixing," I whined.

"I'm sorry babe, I just wanted to get off the phone before he asked about the rent," he said, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

"Yeah I suppose," I replied.

Having endured two freezing cold days and nights without heat and hot water I rang Mr Croft from work to chase him up. Rent or not we needed a boiler that worked. I put on my most persuasive and feeble voice in the hope that he would take pity on us and come and fix our problem. No such luck.

"So the boiler's not working you say. Pity. Must be cold for you. Maybe if you could pay the rent I might be more inclined to come and fix the problem sooner," he said. My heart sank. Of course he was right.

I put on a little girly voice hoping to plead to his better nature. "Yes I realise that we are a little bit behind with the rent Mr Croft. I know my husband has explained the reason why we've not paid but he's away now and it's REALLY cold. I would be so grateful if you could come and fix the boiler ... pleeease."

I heard him sigh. "I'll be there this afternoon. You better make sure you're there too. And I want some money."

"Okay," I feebly replied. I hung up not knowing how I was going to pay him anything.

I went to ask Sandra if I could take the afternoon off. She agreed but I had to make it up to her after work the next day. I knew what that meant.

I got home just after one o'clock to find Mr Croft waiting outside the front door. He looked me up and down in a way that sent shivers of fear through my body. I maybe shouldn't have told him Matt was away.

"So what's the matter with the boiler?" he asked gruffly as I walked up the driveway towards him.

"I don't know. It just made a funny clunking sound and then stopped working. I don't think there's a leak but we had a look and couldn't see what the problem would be."

"Humph," he grunted, "I'll go get my tools."

I went into the house as he turned and went to his van. I heard him come back inside as I went upstairs to get changed out of my work uniform.

I slipped off my shoes and stripped off my skirt and blouse to stand there in just my bra and panties. I was stood at my wardrobe looking for my sweatshirt and pants when I sensed I wasn't alone.

I glanced into the mirror and could see Mr Croft was stood outside the bedroom just peeking inside. He thought I couldn't see him.

I know I should have spun around and told him to clear off but I decided to have a bit of fun. I pushed my sweatshirt back inside the wardrobe and then bent over to look for something on the lower shelf.

My arse cheeks were on full display for him as today I was wearing a thong. I smiled when I heard him gasp. I stood up straight and removed my bra turning slightly to the side so he would get a side view of my boob. He gasped again.

I smiled to myself as I slipped on a tight tee shirt and pulled a very short skirt up over my hips. Made from a stretch fabric it moulded itself around my arse. I looked into the mirror and saw Mr Croft rubbing at his crotch area, pulling and stroking at a large bulge that was outlined quite clearly through his soiled sweatpants.

I made a big show of closing the wardrobe door and slowly turned around. Mr Croft had gone. I giggled. It was so much fun and I felt kind of aroused. I'd not had sex for nearly a week now, not even with Sandra, so it felt good to be flirtatious.

I went to put on my flip-flops but then changed my mind. With a smile I put on some sandals with a 4" heel. I turned to leave but at the last minute made another decision that made me shudder. I removed my thong.

When I got downstairs Mr Croft was laid on his back, half in and half out of the kitchen sink cupboard banging away at a pipe. I had no idea what he was doing because the boiler was in the utility room. His large belly was pointing up at me as was the rather large bulge in his sweatpants.

I coughed to draw his attention that I was now in the kitchen.

"What are you doing Mr Croft, it's the boiler that's not working," I said.

"I know that," he replied irritably, "I've already fixed that but I'm now checking to see why you had a problem with it."

"So what was wrong with the boiler?" I asked.

"Water pressure," he grunted in reply.

"Oh, I see." But I didn't really.

"Hand me the mole grips," he said as he extended his arm out towards me.

I bent down to rummage around in his tool box.

"What this?" I said holding up the tool I thought he wanted.

He craned his head up to look. "That's a spanner," he snorted in derision, "it's that one there, the one that's got the lever attached to it."

I leaned down again feeling my short skirt sliding higher up my legs until it was barely covering my arse. I heard Mr Croft gasp.

"This one?" I said as I turned back with the mole grips in my hand.

"Yeah, that's the one," he replied gruffly. "But I'll take that spanner anyway. It might come in handy."

I handed the mole grips to him and then turned back to the tool box. I bent lower and felt my skirt slip up over my arse cheeks as I picked up the spanner.

I don't know what was making me behave like this but I knew I was wet between my legs. I handed him the spanner and moved away to get my act together.

As I leaned against the worktop I looked down at Mr Croft as he continued to fix whatever it was that needed fixing. He was grunting and cursing as he twisted around under the sink trying to tighten something and it was then I noticed that the bulge inside his sweatpants was now huge.

I badly needed a drink to calm my nerves - or so I told myself as I went into the living room and fixed myself a large pink gin and lemonade. Yeah I know ...

I found myself irresistibly drawn back to the kitchen. I didn't really want to go but I couldn't stop myself. As I entered, Mr Croft was struggling to his feet.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

He stared at me as I sipped at my drink, letting his eyes roam down my body, taking in my curves displayed for him nicely by my tight fitting clothes.

"Fine," he replied.

"Drink?" I asked as I waved my glass in the air.

"Sure," he replied with a wicked smile. "I'll have whatever you're having."

I spun around and with a flick of my hips went back into the living room. I fixed Mr Croft his drink and then decided to have another myself. Why not? It wasn't every day I had the afternoon off work.

I walked back into the kitchen and handed him his drink. We were standing quite close to each other. I could smell his body odour. It wasn't pleasant.

He took a long drink from his glass as he stared at my tits. His lustful gaze was so intense I could feel my nipples growing bigger and harder. I knew they had to be pushing out through my tight tee shirt.

"Your perfume's very strong," he suddenly said. "I like it."

"Well thank you," I mumbled in reply. I hadn't seen that coming. Maybe this was his idea of a chat up line.

"Nice top too," he added with a smirk as his eyes focused on my nipples, which were clearly on display now.

"Thank you again," I said, smiling weakly.

He took a couple of steps towards me. I didn't move. For some reason I couldn't get my feet to work. I could feel my heart beating just a little bit faster.

"Nice nips," he said crudely. My breathing was ragged now as I watched his hand coming towards my chest.

His large finger and thumb closed around the nipple on my left breast. He squeezed hard and I whimpered as he rolled it around and tugged at it.

Open mouthed, he was breathing hard into my face as he glared into my eyes. All I could focus on was that he badly needed a shave.

His other hand closed around my right breast. He squeezed and fondled it for about a minute before both hands came off my breasts and took hold of my top. He tugged it out of my skirt.

"Lift your arms up," he grunted.

Compliantly my arms went up as he removed my tee shirt, which he tossed to one side. His large hands returned immediately to my breasts. He groped and fondled them for a few more minutes, paying particular attention to my very erect nipples.

Disgustingly, I knew I was going to let him fuck me and as much as I like my boobs played with, it's my arse getting groped that turns me on more.

He was grinning at me as he finally removed his hand from my boobs. "You like that?" he said with a sneer. His look said everything. He thought I was a slut.

I could feel myself blushing with shame but didn't answer. He was right. I was.

His hands came down onto my hips as he pulled me closer. I could feel his huge bulge pressing up against my mound as he leaned in and kissed me. I gagged and tried to pull away but he forced my lips apart with his tongue, which he then rammed into my mouth. To my horror I found myself responding as I kissed him back, my tongue reaching out to dance with his.

I felt his hand on my upper thigh, so I opened my stance to allow him entry to my mound. His large fingers probed at my pussy lips, tracing around their swollen shape before he eased one, then two digits inside my sopping wet pussy. I came immediately, twitching and jerking on his fat fingers as he thrust them roughly up inside me. I clung onto his shoulders as my legs buckled beneath me due to the strength of my orgasm.

"Fuck me," I gasped. I meant it as a response to my climax. Mr Croft took it as an invitation.

He spun me around and coaxed my lower body away from the kitchen units. I held onto the edge of the worktop as he bent me over. My arse was now at the right level for entry. His sweatpants were down around his ankles and his cock was pushing through my arse cheeks to nestle up against my pussy in a matter of seconds.

He thrust forward in one jerky motion, pushing past any semblance of resistance as he impaled me on his massive cock. I screamed. A mixture of agony and unbridled joy.

He was stretching me nearly as much as Uncle Len had and I knew he was long as I felt the head of his cock bumping up against my cervix every now and again.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," I mumbled rapidly as he dropped into a pretty quick rhythm.

The lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the kitchen to be accompanied by Mr Croft's deep gasps for breath and my loud grunts of pleasurable discomfort.

I crashed through another orgasm as he pounded away, his hands alternating between finding and groping my breasts, tweaking my nipples and manipulating my clit.

Thankfully there was no love involved. It was primeval fucking sating my perverse need. Love making existed only between Matt and me. Well as far as I was concerned it did.

Another five minutes went by and I was impressed. I knew Mr Croft had to be hurting as I could feel his sweat dropping onto my body, plus his breathing was really ragged. I just hoped he wasn't going to have a heart attack.

And then he climaxed. There had been no feeling of his cock swelling, no vocalised warning apart from, "Oh fuck," as he unloaded what felt like a gallon of spunk into my pussy. I wasn't best pleased but at least I was on the pill.

As he pulled out of me I felt some of his spunk drip out of my very sore feeling pussy to splatter on the tiled kitchen floor. I went to get some toilet paper to stem the flow. When I returned I saw Mr Croft putting away his tools. His cock though was still out, his sweatpants still pooled around his ankles.

"Not putting ALL your tools away," I quipped, thinking I was being funny.

He turned to look at me. I was only wearing my short skirt and high heels. I watched as his semi flaccid cock began to swell.

"Fuck me," I whispered as my eyes grew big.

Again Mr Croft took that as an invitation. I tried to escape but he pinned me up against the worktop and turning me around, bent me lower.

And then he spanked me. Hard. And the more I struggled and squirmed trying to escape the harder he slapped me.

My pussy was positively gushing by the time he shoved his large monstrosity back inside me.

He fucked me for five minutes before he came again. This time though he was spent.

As he pulled up his sweatpants and tucked his cock away inside he looked at me. I was slumped in a chair, his cum seeping down my legs to drip in a puddle at my feet. I was a sticky, sweaty mess. But I was satisfied. Mr Croft sure could fuck.

"See you tomorrow," he said as he turned to leave.

"I'm sorry?" I said in response. I wasn't sure what he meant. "Why?"

"Something might need servicing again," he said with a leer.

"I don't think so," I snorted in reply. "That was a one off."

He smirked at me. "No it wasn't. Judging by the way you've just fucked me I suspect hubby's not satisfying you. I think you want what's inside my pants and I think you want it a lot."

I laughed loudly. "Is that what you think." It was my turn to sneer. "You've no idea what I want and you never will have. Now just go."

Mr Croft grunted dismissively and picked up his tool bag and began to walk out the door. I was relieved he was going as I felt truly dreadful. The sex had been ... well ... fulfilling but the guilt was starting to hit home hard. What was wrong with me. I truly was a slut and I didn't want to be.

As he reached the door Mr Croft stopped and turned to face me. "I know you want my cock. I could tell. I can always tell when a woman's a slut. And you Mrs Stephens ... are a slut! I'll be back tomorrow."

"I won't be here," I replied, an idea beginning to form in my head, "but you are right about your cock. I do want it but you'll only get it again on my terms."

"Oh I see. I get it. You're a prostitute. You want me to pay for it, is that it?"

"No, I'm not a prostitute and I don't want your cash but you've made it clear you're a horse trader so how about we do a little bit of horse trading of our own."

I could see I'd piqued his interest as he put his tool box down.

"You want to fuck me again ... right?"

"Yeah of course I do. You're a good fuck," he replied.

"Okay ... well I'm prepared to let you if you agree to reducing our rent for the house."

I paused to let the information filter into his brain. I could almost see the cogs turning.

"So what's your proposal?" he asked.

Shit ... I had no idea. I hadn't thought this through yet. I made a quick decision.

"I'll let you fuck me once a month and we don't pay any rent," I blurted out.

It didn't take him long to consider my proposal. He laughed derisively. "Seriously? For fucks sake ... I could get a high class escort for less than that a month," he sneered.

"Twice a week, every week and you pay half rent," he countered.

It was my turn to laugh derisively. "Fuck off ... that DOES make me a prostitute. How about twice a month?"

We went at it, back and forth before we finally settled on a deal. For a rent free month I had to fuck him four times. Three times and we would pay a quarter of the rent. Twice would be half rent and so on. If we didn't fuck at all, we had to pay the full months rent.

"Right," he said, "I'll be around tomorrow night for the first weeks rent then. Hubby still away?"

"Yes ... but doesn't just now count?" I asked.

He sneered at me. "We hadn't made the deal then," he countered. "I'll be around at seven. Be ready and wear something sexy."

* * * * *

I was beyond excited all day knowing what was coming that night. Matt had rung earlier and I'd told him what deal I'd struck with Mr Croft. He wasn't angry although in truth I didn't expect him to be. He seemed relieved that out rent problem was going to be solved.

Me ... I was as horny as hell just thinking about Mr Croft's monster cock being inside me again. Yep, I'm definitely a slut. But I'm Matt's slut and he loves me so that's okay.

To calm my nerves I'd partaken of a large gin based cocktail drink. It had rhubarb and ginger infused in it. It was delicious. Just like drinking pop. The first glassful went down very easily. And quickly. I was on my third when the loud knock on the back door announced our landlord's arrival.

With just a hint of trepidation I opened the door. He strode inside and then turned to look at me.

"Fuck me," he said as he gawped wide eyed at me. "Let me see more ... turn around ... slowly," he added.

I did as instructed. He'd asked me to dress sexily for him so I'd pulled out one of Uncle Len's designer dresses. It was white, had a high neck, capped sleeves and came to just below my knees. But what made it special was the material. It clung to my body like a second skin emphasising every single curve, bump and lump. Plus it was almost see through. Almost. You could probably see my nipples but luckily you wouldn't be able to see my g-string. To finish off I was wearing a black 5" heel stiletto sandal.

"FUCK ..." Mr Croft groaned as I completed my turn. He stared at me open mouthed before he finally snapped to his senses.

"Right ... change of plan," he fired out. "Call a taxi and get them to drop you off at The Grape Escape. I'll meet you in there after I've been home and changed."

"What ... why?" I asked completely flummoxed by the sudden change. I was expecting him to take me upstairs for a quick fuck and now he wanted to go on a date? What the hell?

"Why not," he said grinning broadly, "you look spectacular, it would be a waste not to show you off to a few people."

He left shortly after the taxi arrived to pick me up. I knew of The Grape Escape but had never been in it. It had originally started off as a trendy wine bar that besides wine also sold craft beer and catered mainly for the yuppie class. But now, years later the clientèle by all accounts were a bit rough and ready.

It was with extreme trepidation that I walked into the bar. There weren't that many people inside but the buzz of conversation stopped completely as I walked across to the bar to get a drink.

Every eye in the place was glued to me as I paid for my drink and went to sit down in a small booth out of the way. My heart was beating so hard I thought I was about to have a coronary. I took a long pull on my drink, wishing that I'd bought a double.

It was five minutes before another drink arrived along with a seedy looking individual carrying it.