So it was happening after all, I was moving down to London. LONDON! Home of the posh and the disgusting and the posh-and-disgusting. Sad and half-dead bums asking for money from people who had too much of it. And, of course, the middle ground, where I admitted I would be residing. Not bad at all for a sensible mind but I couldn’t help feeling slightly scared and panicky about having to support myself in a new place. Thrown in the deep water, as they say, right?
The search for a flat stopped in Dalston, very unglamorous indeed but the only area I could at that time afford. The place was what I would later come to expect from every affordable dig in the capital – a bit rundown, smelling of the 80s and unwashed mattreses but nothing a lick of paint wouldn’t fix.
So there I was, hoping for the best, when out of the very blue I lost my waitressing job. Boring as it was, it grew to be my only means of paying my rent and getting around. Things happened quickly and I didn’t quite get the chance to get depressed over it but my landlord started getting impatient and there was no way I could produce a month’s rent on his notice.
I decided to charm him then. Go round to his place with a bottle of wine, get friendly and ask for a little time. How could that not work?
That Monday I found myself knocking on Mr Johns’s door, a cheap shiraz in one hand, boobs being adjusted inside my low-cut top by the other. He couldn’t refuse, he would sympathize, he’s human after all, I kept thinking to myself.
– Hello, Miss Brookes – he smiled as he let me in. He was a man in his 50s, not a sophisticated one but polite enough every time I’d spoken to him over the phone in the past.
– Thanks for having me, Mr Johns – I cooed and immediately felt embarrassed but he seemed excited.
His flat was decent. Not posh nor impressive, yet again, but something I didn’t find difficult to believe a lone 50-year-old would happily settle for. I mentioned the money, probably a little too early, but he silenced me:
– We’ll talk of money later. Let us drink wine.
– Let us eat cake! – I laughed and the shiraz started flowing. And then his own bottle of nasty supermarket wine. It was soon late enough for us to find an excuse for getting even more reckless and sharing some shots. I got merrier and merrier and found myself thinking that Mr Johns is actually a good man.
Just 30 minutes later I was so drunk that all I did when noticing hiz gaze upon my breasts was giggle.
– You know Miss Brookes, we could make an arrangement – he said in a low quiet voice. I nodded my head like a dumb doll and went over to the sofa he was sitting on. He lowered me down next to him and his big hands started trailing across my body roughly and impatiently, squeezing my boobs rhythmically. He was breathing heavily and I was crazy with excitement, not about rent, not about any landlord-tenant relationship we might have had before, but about the thought of this strange old man having his way with a 20-year-old girl. The naughtiness!
I wanted to look for his cock with my hand and rested it on a massive bulge in his beige chinos. He kept stroking my body and I led his hand under my dress where his hard, leathery fingers digged through my knickers to my already wet cunt.
– Oh yeah, baby, grandpa needed this very much – he whispered as I started undoing his belt.
He took his finger out of my pussy to help me take his trousers off and unveiled the biggest cock I’d ever seen in my life – every girl has this moment when she gasps at the sight of her most-massive-yet but a dirty old man in a drunken encounter was the last person I would expect that to happen with. It was pink and wrinkled with a bush of wiry hair around the balls and I felt my cunt start to throb.
– Oooh, fuck me please, I want that big snake of yours ramming every hole in my body – I said and immediately afterwards realized what a fake and unconvincing pornstar dirty talk I made an attempt at. He smiled and I felt like a schoolgirl who’s been made fun of by every kid on the playground. I fell quiet and thought I killed it but he quickly took the rest of his clothes and got rid of all of mine in a swift move.
– Lie down over my knee.
I obeyed and felt him playing with my ass cheeks, squeezing and tugging at them, then finally landing a strong slap on my bare bottom. I let out a half-hearted cry and waited anxiously for what he would do next. Then he licked his finger and I felt him stick it in my ass, not easing it in like a good man would, but ramming it straight down. I cried with pain and moaned with pleasure at the same time. He moved his finger around inside me and took it out. I wasn’t expecting it when he suddenly pushed it back in started finger-fucking my ass until I was screaming and pretty much rolled of his knees onto the floor, panting.
‘Oh God’, I thought, ‘Oh God’.
He didn’t let catch my breath and grabbed my head, pulling my hair forcefully towards his now fullly erect cock. I’d been anticipating sucking that big thing off but he, yet again, went the brutal way and pushed my head down all the way. I gagged and pulled back and for a split second considered leaving the flat that instant but when he slapped my face and pushed his dick down my throat again, I forgot all about it and obeyed. He held me down until I gagged again and then stood up, me still on my knees on the floor. He kept hold of my head and started shoving his cock in my mouth violently. There were tears streaming down my face and my boobs were by now covered in spit, but I let him carry on. He finally pulled out and looked down at me emotionlessly.
– Do you want more?
I nodded.
I got on the sofa and stuck my ass up high, presenting myself to him like a bitch in heat. He got behind me and I finally felt him push those 12 inches into my cunt, roughly and impatiently. I moaned but he grabbed my hair and pulled it hard which I understood as his way of telling me to shut up. He kept ramming my pussy over and over and I thought I couldn’t take anymore of this brutal sex. He then quickly slipped it into my ass and back into my cunt again, one, two, one, two, ass, pussy, ass, pussy, ass, pussy. Then all of a sudden he stopped, ran to the table to grab his wallet and pulled out a clip of banknotes while still jerking off his throbbing cock. Dazed and very confused, still on all fours, I watched him groan and shoot a load of milky cum onto the money. I sat down, astonished. He walked over to me and stuck the notes in front of my face and then wiped the cum off the money onto my violated pussy.
– This will help with next month’s rent, this month’s you can stop worrying about.
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