The Lodger

The lodger arrived right on time. Quarter past eight.

He carried in a sports bag when Andrea let him into the house. They exchanged hesitant smiles as they shuffled around each other.

"You want me to leave the door open, so you can get the rest of your stuff?"

He shook his head. "This is it."

Andrea didn't say anything. But she crinkled her features a little as she wondered why the hell he didn't have more belongings.

As he put his bag down on the sofa, he pulled out a wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket. "You want me to pay now?"

"If you want," she said. "Whatever suits you best."

He pulled out the notes, counted them with flickering lips, and handed her the right amount.

"Thanks," Andrea said. She scurried into the kitchen and put them in her handbag.

"Do you mind if I put the kettle on?"

Andrea twitched. She almost jumped. "Yeah, er, sure. Let me do it." She filled the kettle at the sink, and switched it on, her fingers still shaky from the surprise. Something she'd have to get used to now. Other people. In her house.

He pulled himself out of his jacket. And looked around the room for somewhere to put it.

"Here, let me."

Andrea pulled the kitchen door out of the way and showed him a coat rack behind it. She took the jacket from his hands, and reached up on her tippy toes to hang it in place.

"Oh," he said. His arms caught her just in time to stop her from taking a tumble as she lost her balance. His strong arms. Strong, thick, solid arms.

Andrea allowed herself to lean against him. She laughed, and sighed in the same breath.

Jesus. She hadn't noticed that when they'd spoken before. And as she stepped away from him, she got a good look at him. Expansive chest, girthy neck, stocky shoulders. And forearms like those of a man who worked with his hands all day long.

She swallowed down a moan.

Maybe it was worth sharing the place, after all.

"Tea or coffee?" She heard the stammer in her own words.

"Tea. Nothing in it."

She poured his drink, and turned around to hand it to him. But froze.

"I saw it in your eyes," he said. His face stiff and rugged. His eyes still. And sure.

Andrea tried to say something, but her mouth just remained open. Empty. Her throat dry. Her eyes locked.

With one meaty hand, he grabbed the base of his exposed cock. Squeezed it.

He kept his eyes in line with hers, as he stroked the length of the shaft, and back up to the glistening glans. "I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Every ounce of Andrea's being wanted to say No, but she shook her head. Wordless.

"We might as well break the ice, if we're gonna be living together for a while. Right?"

Again, Andrea couldn't find the words. She nodded. Her tongue crept out over the dry skin of her bottom lip. Moistened it.

She barely had time to put the trembling cup down.

His other hand was on her shoulder. Pushed. She found herself on her knees before she knew what was happening. And with another swift movement, his cock pressed against her face.

She took it inside her mouth. Sucked on it. Savoured the taste of it. The smell of it. The rock hard weight of it.

Her heart slammed inside her chest. And she had to blink a few times, to soothe her dizzying senses.

His cock pulled out of her mouth with a wet slurp. She was about to complain. But realised it had been her own doing. And now her tongue found his balls. Licked all over them. Back to the rigid shaft, and right the way to the tip, where she kissed at it, and teased the pee hole.

"Fuck, yeah."

The words rang in her ears. All of the encouragement she needed.

She almost swallowed his cock whole. Gagged. Spluttered. And bobbed her head back and forth on its full length. Her eyes stung, her throat ached. And she fucking loved it. Every inch of it, and every fucking second of it.

His hands grabbed at her chest. At first through the striped jumper she wore. And within seconds, it was pulled up to her neck, and his fingers pinched at her bare nipples, and kneaded her exposed tits with eagerness.

She growled around his cock as his efforts sent electricity from the swollen nubs down through her belly, and between her legs.

She couldn't work out how they'd got here. In such a short time.

Nor did she care.

She wrapped her hand around his balls and massaged them as she sucked his cock. Savouring every salty drop of pre-cum that oozed into her mouth, and trickled down the back of her throat. Her moaning, as loud as it was, was almost drowned out by the sounds coming from him.

Without warning he stiffened. His entire body.

Then it came.

Unrelenting torrents of hot cum.

She tried her best to swallow, but it was impossible.

She slapped her hands to her face in an attempt to catch the trickles escaping the corners of her mouth, and squelched them up and down the girth of his shaft. Sucking and licking her way down to get it all back onto her taste buds.

He was done.

The streams were gone.

Andrea pulled his cock from her mouth, and swivelled her head to lap up and down the sides of it. She didn't want to waste a single droplet. It had been some time, and didn't plan on letting the moment go to waste.

Then her heart dropped.

His hands rested on her shoulders.

The universal sign.

She eased her ministrations. Not quite ready to all out stop, yet.

She looked up at him. Dreading it.

"I'm not finished yet," he said.

With a move that pulled the breath out of her lungs, as well as her body from the floor, he lifted her by the arm pits. Turned her around, and pushed her down over the kitchen table. Items crashed and clanged. Her tits pressed against the cold wood. The nipples even more rigid, and sensitive.

"Wh-"

He cut off her attempts at speech, by tugging down the back of her leggings. Leaving them around her knees. And slammed his saliva-covered cock into the depths of her pussy.

She yelled aloud.

He grunted.

Not quite sure how, Andrea thrust back against him, tried to match his hips. Sinking his cock even farther inside her, until his balls hit against her pubis with a wet slap each time he bucked forward.

Andrea could do nothing but enjoy it.

And that she did.

He was fucking her so hard her feet were off the floor. Her nipples burned in white hot ecstasy as he drove her body across the surface of the table. Her pussy gulped up every inch of his powerful cock. And her breath came in short rasps.

At some point he reached beneath her. Groped at her quivering tits. His other hand steady on her hip, keeping them both in the right place.

And then the thunderous roar filled the room.

He bucked harder.

She tried to cry out, but her throat didn't have the energy. Or the moisture. All of that was elsewhere.

His cock thickened, twitched, thickened again. And unleashed.

The hot cum jettisoned into her. And the very thought of it made her body convulse into her own savage orgasm.

Her toes curled so hard that they ached. Her abdomen erupted in heat and pleasure. And it spread up into her chest where it almost stole what little breath she had left.

He pussy exploded.

So much so that everything was almost too much. The least little movement tore through her. Sending her into renewed convulsions.

She lay there for long moments. Even when his cock was pulled free. And as she heard him regaining his breath behind her.

The kitchen wall in front of her came back into view. Slowly.

The hard, cold table that was holding her up. The chill of an October night.

She struggled to get herself up, and when she did, she almost landed on the floor.

Cum dribbled down her inner thighs. And she could still taste it in her mouth.

She reached down to the entrance of her pussy and stroked it with caution. Just enough to get some of the glorious fluid on her fingers. She pulled them back up to her face. In the silence of the room, her slurps echoed off every wall.

But the ice was broken now.

No need to be shy.

The End.