Rent Day

However, he had no real appreciation for her beauty. He didn’t admire her high cheekbones or her smooth, clear skin. He never took any time to focus on her bright eyes that grew dimmer with his every visit or the gentle slope of her nose against which tears rolled after he left. For now she was just something to satisfy his lust.

His lust focused on her nipples. He did take time to look at her breasts; he was always looking at her breasts. That was one of the things that intimidated him about her grandmother. Several years ago, when Lynette was just a teenager, the woman had caught him staring down her granddaughter’s blouse. She never said anything to him. She didn’t need to; she had a disapproving glare that spoke volumes. But here and now on the kitchen table those tits were his.

Vincent leaned over Lynette’s body and sucked her nipple into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around her now hardened nipple and sucked as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. He braced himself against her body by grabbing her hips with his hands and clenched her with his sweaty fingers. He sucked intensely waiting for it to come. He pinched her nipple between his teeth and followed that with another long suck.

Lynette squirmed on the table beneath her landlord. She closed her eyes tightly and grimaced as he sucked on her body. She clasped the edges of the table with her hands and gripped it with an almost white-knuckled intensity. She turned her head from side to side and struggled to breath, but the air in the apartment was humid and stagnant. Each attempt at breathing became a struggle, and the heat coming off Vincent’s body did not help.

Vincent got what he wanted. He had sucked on her nipple until he could taste her lactate. Now he sucked to taste as much of her milk as he could. He slurped at it: more rude sexual sounds that turned him on. He leaned over her body further and commenced to suck on her other nipple until it also brought forth her milk. He loved the taste it made as it mixed with the sweat from her body.

His own sweat rolled off of his forehead and dripped onto her skin. Even the sweat from under his arms dripped down onto her. The two of them were soaked by now. As Vincent tasted the fluid coming forth from her nipples and smelled her body he rolled his tongue between her cleavage and licked up the sweat and milk that rolled off her nipples.

He backed off of her and stood to catch his breath. Lynette felt him rise again and opened her eyes to see him standing above her with his hand outstretched. She took a moment to catch her own breath, but breathing was still labor.

“Come on. Get up. Stand up,” he gasped.

Lynette slid off the table and stood in front of him.

“Turn around. Bend over the table.”

She followed his instructions. Vincent slid the dress down past her shoulders and let it rest on her back. It was all bunched up around the middle of her body and it was damp with sweat.

“Spread you legs apart. More. That’s it. Now arch your back. Good.” She followed each of his commands and posed herself in front of him.

Lynette dropped her head and looked down between her legs as Vincent pressed his cock against her from behind. She could feel the head of his cock pushing into her vagina. He clenched her hips again. She leaned forward on the table and let him slide himself into her. She stared out the kitchen window and focused on the roof of the building across the street. A few random thoughts entered her head.

It’s so hot today. I can’t hardly breath. The table is a mess. At least I don’t have to look at him this way.

From the street the sound of a song playing over a cheap loudspeaker became audible.

The ice cream man. Oh, hurry up and finish.

Vincent thrust his cock into her body and humped her from behind. He loved this position; it gave him a perfect view of her backside. He loved to see the curve of her spine, and her delicious dark skin as he took her. He also loved to wrap his hands around the front of her body and grab at breasts. He pulled her back into his chest and squeezed her ample bosom on each inward thrust. Feeling the heat of her back on his chest excited him, but it became an awkward way to take her.

“Lean back over the table,” he said. “That’s it. Arch your back. More. More. Good.”

Lynette arched her back and raised her butt into the air to give him the easiest access to her vagina. She knew from the last four months that this was his preferred method of fucking her: taking her from behind.

At least I don’t have to look at him. Oh, hurry up, please.

Her landlord continued humping her until he felt a promising surge build up. However, he didn’t want to come this way. He wanted her to lie on the table on her back. This time he wanted to get a good view of her body from the front when he came.

He pulled his penis out of her.

“Here, turn around. Let the dress drop to the floor; that’s it. Get back up on the table. No, no. On your back, get on your back. Yeah, good. Okay, now spread your legs nice and wide. Yeah, yeah, good.”

Lynette was disappointed because now she was probably going to have to look at him. She didn’t want to see any part of him. Her blue dress lay crumpled on the floor between his legs. Now she was fully exposed to him.

Just get it over with and get out. Why do you have to take so long? It’s so hot. The ice cream man will be leaving soon.

Now he could ogle every inch of her dark breasts while screwing her. Vincent pressed his penis back into her body, but this time as he thrust himself into her she slid back on the wet surface of the table. He grabbed her by the thighs and pulled her back into place like a rag doll. Then he started thrusting into her pussy once again. He kept a firm grip on her wet thighs as he drove himself in and out of her. His hand slipped off once or twice, but he was quick to recover his grip and thrust more.

Lynette concentrated on keeping her legs open and not looking at him. She kept her eyes open and turned to the left. She looked out the side window of the kitchen and saw the wall of the alley outside. She turned her head to the right and looked at the bare surface of the refrigerator. She just stared at the white surface of the big box and felt Vincent pushing himself inside her body. In the background she could hear the tinny sound of “It’s a Small World” playing over a cheap speaker.

Thrusting into the girl’s body was not enough for him this month. Ever since he had first seen her naked, four months ago when he first started taking advantage of her, he was obsessed with the girl’s pussy. The black outer lips of her labia turned to pink on the inside, and they were firmer than he had seen on other women, usually strippers. In fact he had wondered if she had ever considered giving dancing a try; she had the body for it.

She’d make a sweet piece of ass dancing on stage, jiggling up and down with these big tits bouncing around. She’d probably make a lot of money at it too.

However, he had not broached the subject with her. He probably would not. Why put her in a position of possible financial independence?

No, he had her body all for his own for the time being, and he intended to take full advantage of it. As he buried his dick in her pussy he slid his thumb inside her. He took her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and gave a gentle tug. She did not respond to that, so he tugged a little harder. Lynette squirmed with some discomfort, but she did not protest. Vincent squeezed and tugged even more firmly the third time.

“Ah…oww,” she responded.

“Oh, so you like that, do you?” he asked as he pulled again.

“Aww…ouch. No…oh, oh.” She protested faintly.

It was mildly uncomfortable when he tugged, but the feeling of his slippery fingers rolling her clitoris in place was not painful. It was pleasant. She did not know how to respond. She did not want to enjoy anything he did, and she certainly did not want him to think she liked it. So she just lay on the table, squirming underneath him, and complaining weakly.

“Oh...oww. Ouch...ah, hah.”

“Oh, I think you like it. You like it this way, don’t you?” he demanded and thrust himself into her with more force.

“No, no. Ouch.”

“Oh come one, you’re just playing,” he thrust harder. “Tell me the truth. Tell me you like it.”

“Ow, ow, ow,” she cried as he tugged on her three times in rapid succession.

“Oh you like it. I can tell you really, really like it,” he grunted through clenched teeth and pumped harder and faster.

Lynette felt something different this time as Vincent rolled her clitoris between his fingers. Deep down inside something was welling up, but she tried hard to suppress it. She did not want to come.

No, please not with him. No, no. Not with him.

She held back as best she could while he fucked her furiously trying to reach his own climax. He wanted to come as much as she wanted to restrain herself. But her body twitched slightly. As much as she struggled to hold back, some little part of a climax had slipped out. Lynette clenched the table again and twisted herself to the left. As her leg shifted position she added pressure on Vincent’s penis. She accidentally got him to come.

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck yeah. Yes, yes. Oh fuck yeah,” he carried on as he squirted his load into the opening between her legs.

Vincent’s semen landed on her thigh and dripped down onto the table. They fluid that landed on her body mixed with their sweat and the residual milk that he had extracted from her earlier. He was spent. As his penis went flaccid he bent down to put on his boxers and pulled up his pants, sweaty legs and all.

Lynette slid off the table and picked up the damp blue dress. She backed up against the sink holding the dress in front of her with her arms crossed, but it was too late for modesty. She ran some water from the tap into her hands and washed her face with it. Then she turned back to face Vincent while holding the dress in front of her. A trickle of semen dripped down her leg, but she paid no attention to it.

He was covered in his own sweat, and he wanted to wipe it off before putting on his shirt. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and tore off the last five sheets to pat himself dry across his face, his chest, and under his arms. The towels were cheap and they got soaked quickly. He looked around for more.

“Do you have any more towels?” has asked her.

“No, that was the last roll I have,” she answered.

“You don’t have any more?”

“No, that was it.”

Now Vincent, this monumental son of a bitch, felt some pity for her. It was the same as the time he had torn her dress. Now he had used up the last of her paper towels.

Ah fuck. What if she needs them for the baby or something? Great, use the last of the poor girl’s towels.

“Well don’t worry,” he said remorsefully. “I’ll get you some more in a little while. Is there anything else you need?”

“Some toilet paper and soap.”

He knew what he was going to do. He was going to fill a grocery bag with household items and bring them to her. Vincent put his shirt back on, buttoned it, and tucked it into his pants. He was ready to go now. Lynette still stood naked in front of the sink holding the dress in front of her. She wanted him to leave, and she didn’t care if he came back with anything.

Vincent sat down at the one dry spot on the table and pulled out his receipt book. As he had four times before, he made out a receipt for one hundred and fifty dollars, tore off her copy, and handed it to her.

“Now remember what I told you before. Keep these receipts. Make sure you show the housing agency that you’ve been paying your part of the rent. You don’t need any trouble from those people.”

“I remember. I keep the receipts,” she said.

She kept them in an envelope tucked away in the bottom of a drawer so as not to see them and be reminded of what she did to pay the rent.

Vincent got up from his seat and walked out of the kitchen and towards to door to the apartment. As he left the kitchen he noticed that the ice in the glass had completely melted. The song playing over the cheap speaker faded off down the street. Lynette followed to see him out and lock the door behind him.

“Like I said, I’ll bring you some more towels and stuff later today. I have a few more errands to run. Clean up and try to stay out of the heat. How’s the air conditioner working?”

“It’s alright. You already asked.”

“Yeah, right. Well can I get anything for your baby?”

“I don’t know. Can you please leave now? I want to clean up.”

“Sure. Like I said, I’ll be back in a while.”

Vincent turned to open the door, and as he did he spotted a picture of Lynette’s grandmother hanging on the wall. He only took a quick look at the picture, but he knew the face well. The face had dignity and respect in it. She was a woman for whom everyone on the street had respect. Her eyes were proud and noble. As Vincent opened the door to leave the apartment he sensed the picture glaring at him, and he felt more shame for what he had just done to Lynette than Lynette had felt for letting him do it to her.