Hey there, it’s Vik back with another story! How’s everyone doing? As always, drop your feedback below – your thoughts really encourage me to keep writing more. [email protected]
I never thought life would corner me like this. At 29, I was just a cashier at a small bank in a sleepy village. My days were simple – go to work, send money home, and try to survive quietly. My family depended on me.
My sister, divorced and living with my ageing parents, had no income. I was all they had. And lately, everything was falling apart. Dadâs health had declined fast. His hospital bills were piling up, and I had no choice but to take an advance on my salary. I thought it would be a one-time thing.
But the bankâs policy was brutal – half the advance would be deducted from one monthâs pay, and the rest from the next. When the first cut hit, I was left with scraps. Mrs. Mehra, my landlord, was kind at first. She knew about my father and let the rent slide.
But there is a cutoff point for kindness. Dad was still ill by the third month, and my pocket was in shambles. I received my complete salary, but it was still insufficient since so many things were pending. That’s when Mrs. Mehra arrived. She did not knock quietly this time.
“Krish,” she replied, her tone icier than I’d ever heard, “you’ve had your chances. Pay the rent today, or I’ll take care of it.” I nodded, desperately attempting to remain calm. I sat down and began writing my cheque. I could sense her staring at me so intensely that it seemed as though she could see right through my deception.
–
My hand slowed. As I handed over the cheque, our fingers touched briefly. She didnât pull away. Her eyes locked onto mine. “Krish,” she said, not taking the cheque. Her voice was quiet but commanding. She stepped between me and the doorway, closing the space between us.
I was taller, stronger – but right then, it didnât feel like it. She stood firm, her face unreadable, her presence suffocating. She glanced at the cheque, then gave me a sharp smile. âYou tried this last month, too.â
She crushed the paper in her hand and tossed it onto my bed. âAlways behind. Always pretending youâve got something in your account.â Then she stepped in – closer than before – and pressed her palm against my chest.
Her eyes locked onto mine. âLetâs stop pretending, Krish,â she said, voice low and steady. âYou know what you owe me… and there are other ways to pay if youâre smart.â
Her hand slid down to my groin, her fingers firmly grasping me through my pants. I inhaled sharply, my body reacting instantly to her touch. âYouâre out of options, Krish,â she said softly. âBut Iâm not out of ideas.â
Her breath was warm on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. She pressed herself against me, my hardness rubbing against her stomach. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of desire and mischief.
I reached down for the cheque she had thrown aside, but Mrs. Mehra’s hand on my chest stopped me. “Not so fast, Krish,” she purred. “You know what I want.” She pushed her body into me, her breasts pressing into my ribcage.
I could sense the lace of her bra, the contact sending my nerves afire. My cock ached in response, straining in my pants. I compelled myself to meet her eyes. Mrs. Mehra’s breath grew ragged as she sensed my erection through our clothing, a provocative curling of her upper lip.
“I see your body agrees to my proposal,” she panted, her hand withdrawing from my groin and inching upwards on my chest. Her fingers played with the buttons on my shirt, unbuttoning them individually, exposing my chest to her ravenous eyes.
Her eyes wandered across my bare chest, the heat of her breath penetrating the skin. I felt the shocked intake of breath as she looked at the small tattoo on my ribcage – poems in my native language.
Her fingers drifted over them, tracing the outline of the words. I stood frozen, her touch sent electricity through my body, and my pulse quickened. Mrs. Mehra’s tongue flicked against my nipple, and the sudden sensation made me gasp.
She drew it into her mouth, sucking gently, her hand grazed down my stomach, and her fingers played with the waistband of my pants. My head tilted back, a groan building in the back of my throat, my cock throbbing against her hand. Her hand slid inside my pants, warm fingers brushing against the tip of my cock.
Her hand wrapped around my length, her thumb stroking the pre-cum oozing from the tip, coating my hardness all over. I gasped, a shiver of pleasure running through me as she started to stroke me, her grasp firm and gentle.
Her lips left my nipple, her tongue following a path up my neck. “Mmmmmm,” she hummed, her breath warm against my ear, “you’re so hard for me, Krish.” I couldn’t help but thrust my hips, forcing my cock into her hand.
Her mouth against my neck, a moan escaped me as she tightened her grip around my length, her hand moving up and down in a slow, rhythmic motion.
She bit down on my earlobe, a surge of pleasure-pain coursing through me. “I think this will work out nicely,” she whispered, her hand still moving on my cock.
Mrs. Mehra’s hand travelled more quickly, her grip steady and firm. Her thumb rubbed the sensitive area at the base of the head, causing me to shiver. I could feel the fire rising in the pit of my stomach, my breathing picking up, the muscles tightening in my arms.
Her eyes kept mine trapped, her lips smiling upward in a sure smile. “You like that, Krish?” she whispered, a suggestive note in her voice.
Our lips crashed together, her tongue darting into my mouth, demanding, claiming. I met her kiss with equal fervour, my tongue tangling with hers. Her hand pumped my dick harder, the wetness from the tip slicking up and down my length.
A surge of warmth coursed through me, my body bracing against the sharp feeling. Mrs. Mehra’s other hand wrapped around my neck, fingers in my hair, tilting my head for the long, deep kiss. Our kiss intensified, our lips pressing against one another in desperation.
I groaned into her mouth, my cock throbbing heavily in her hand. She bit down on my tongue, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to draw a sharp gasp from me. Her hand moved faster on my dick, the slick sound of wet flesh on flesh filling my ears.
A shudder ran through me, my body tensing, heat coiling in the pit of my stomach. “Mrs. Mehra…” I panted, my body tensing. “I’m… I’m going to… Stop… Stop…”. My grip on her shoulders tightened, my hips bucking erratically.
Her hand stroked my dick faster, her tongue invading my mouth, muffling my low moans. My muscles stiffened, my legs shaking. “Oh…” My body jerked, and I released a torrent of cum into her hand, a rush of hot, heavy pulses shooting through me.
As I jerked in my body, my cock pulsating in her hand, I retreated, wide-eyed looking at Mrs. Mehra. Her hand was wet with my cum, a thread of it connecting her palm to the head of my cock. Her top was in disarray, wet spots marring the immaculate white fabric, her breasts evident through the thin, wet fabric.
Her nipples were taut buds, pressing against the cloth, begging to be touched. A slow, smug smile spread across her lips as she released me from her grasp. She raised her hands to her top, her gaze holding mine, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
She unbuttoned the soiled fabric, slid the straps off her shoulders, and let the garment fall to the floor. Her full, round breasts were now bared before me, her nipples hard and inviting.
I stood there, pants opened, my spent cock dangling soft and slick with cum. Mrs. Mehra knelt in front of me, her smile heated, her eyes glinting. “Lie down, Krish,” she demanded, her index finger pointing at my bed.
I hesitated, still in shock from what had just transpired. Her gaze hardened. “Now, Krish.” I obeyed, my legs trembling as I sat down on the edge of the bed. I lay back on the bed, my legs hanging off the edge.
Mrs. Mehra was positioned between my thighs, her breasts tantalisingly close to my groin area. She lay her hands on my knees, spreading my knees apart, her fingers sliding on the inside of my thighs. I drew in a hard breath, excitement racing through me as her hands moved up my legs, drawing circles on my skin.
She leaned in, her breasts pressing against the side of my thigh. Mrs. Mehra tied her hair back into a low ponytail, the movement stretching her back and pressing her naked breasts into my thighs. I felt the softness of her skin, the warmth seeping into me as she leaned in closer.
Her breath teased the top of my cock, and I gasped when she took me into her mouth. Her lips closed around the head. I was still soft and wet from my release, but her mouth felt good.
Her mouth moved my cock in slow, steady sucks, her tongue dancing over the sensitive tissue. I ground against her as I rode the sensation of her lips enveloping my shaft, her mouth so hot and wet. My cock jerked in her mouth, reacting to her touch.
She hummed, her eyes sparkling with pleasure at my reaction. She drew me in deeper, her lips enveloping the length of my dick until I could feel the head prodding the back of her throat.
I grunted, my dick beginning to harden in her mouth. I felt the thrum of need pumping through my veins, my body full of pent-up lust. Her head was moving up and down, her tongue laving my now firming length.
Her small frame knelt between my legs, her lean back concave, her ass raised high. The thigh muscles tensed, my hips bucking to drive deeper into her mouth.
I grabbed her hair, guiding her movements as I angled my hips upward, fucking her mouth. My cock was now fully erect again, stretching her lips wide. Mrs. Mehra moaned around me, her eyes never leaving mine as she took my cock deep into her throat.
Her hands reached up to grasp my thighs, her nails digging into the flesh. I groaned, my fingers tangling in her hair, my pace picking up.
Her hands ran up my thighs, her fingers curling into the flesh of my ass. She pulled me closer, taking me deeper into her mouth. I guided her head with my hands, sliding my cock in and out of her throat, my hips rocking in a steady rhythm.
I groaned, my head crashing back onto the pillow, my eyes rolling back, pleasure coursing through me. “Fuck,” I moaned, my grip on her hair tightening.
Mrs. Mehra released my cock with a loud pop, her lips glistening with saliva. She looked up at me, her eyes gleaming with desire and satisfaction as she took in my rock-hard dick. She licked her lips, then the length of my cock, up and down, teasing, before swirling her tongue around the head.
She pressed her palm against the base, her thumb swirling over the sensitive spot. With a mischievous smile, she straightened, unbuckled her jeans, and slid them off, revealing a lace-covered pussy.
Her body curled seductively as she removed her pants, the curve of her ass contrasting with the lacy fabric. She stepped closer, pressing a knee onto the bed, her hands on either side of my head. Her breasts dangled over my chest, the nipples grazing my skin.
Her lips dropped to my ear, her breath rough against my skin. “I want to ride you, Krish,” she breathed, her tongue darting out to taste my earlobe. “I want to feel your cock inside me.” She rocked her hips against me, her wet panties sliding across my stiff length.
I reached up, cradling her voluptuous breasts, my hands teasing her nipples. Her hand came between our bodies, shoving her wet panties out of the way. She wrapped her hand around my cock, notching it against her opening. She growled and pushed herself down, taking my length in one smooth stroke.
I gasped at the sudden, feverish heat of her pussy. She paused only briefly, her body trembling as she adjusted to my size. “God, Krish,” she moaned, her eyes closed, head tilted back, showing off the tantalising arch of her neck.
Mrs. Mehra began to move, the slow, sensual glide of her pussy over my rigid length. She steadied herself with her hands on my chest, her nails digging in slightly. Her eyes were on me, her lips parted, her breath coming in quick gasps.
She started slowly, drawing out the pleasure for us both. She arched, her breasts jiggling, the nipples puckering as the air stroked them.
Her strokes became faster, her hips pumping. Her smooth, rounded belly was a sensual blur as she rode me, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy surging through my body. Her breasts waved freely, the heavy globes moving with her movements.
Her nipples, dark cherries rounded and tight, were firm and inviting. I raised my hands, covering them, circling the tender buds. Her breath hitched, a cry of delight exploding from her mouth.
Mrs. Mehra slowed down, then lifted her hips, her pussy glistening as she released me from her wet warmth. She rolled off me and onto the bed, her body moving sinuously. She propped herself on her elbows, turning to face me as she came topsy-turvy.
Her eyes blazed into me, her tongue slithering over her plump lips. “Krish,” she commanded, her voice throaty, “get in my ass now.”
I took the position, kneeling over Mrs. Mehra’s spread legs. Her body was lush and inviting, with a smooth sheen to her skin. I put my hands on her hips, tracing them up her back, her body quivering at the contact. My fingers mapped the curve of her ass, the softness of her flesh tempting.
I leaned in, my tongue tracking a line across her cheeks, teasing the shape of her ass. I licked and sucked at her ass, my tongue making soft circles around the hard bud. Mrs. Mehra bucked beneath me, her body twisting, her moans filling the air.
She thrust her ass back, her cheeks sandwiching my face. I gripped her ass cheeks, spreading them, my tongue delving into her, teasing, tasting. Her cries rose in pitch, her fingers digging into the sheets.
I removed my face and holding my hard cock, I pressed her face down on the sheets, gripping her waist. She whimpered as I pushed the head of my cock against the swollen bud of her asshole. I hesitated, allowing her time to accommodate me before I continued, my cock pushing past her tight ring.
Mrs. Mehra groaned, her hands balling the sheets, her body tightening as I penetrated. I eased in slowly, the tightness encasing me, my head reeling.
I held still, allowing her to get used to my girth. Her body trembled under me, her fingers clutching the sheets. “You feel so good, Krish,” she moaned, “Fuck me now! I want to feel you move.” I grabbed her hips, slid in deeper, her tightness squeezing my cock.
“Fuck, Mrs. Mehra,” I groaned, my head spinning. Her body trembled under me as I slid out, then thrust back in, my hips picking up a steady rhythm.
I clutched her hips, my fingers digging into flesh, holding her in place. My strokes grew faster, harder, the sound of our flesh slapping against each other ringing in the air. Mrs. Mehra’s body shook, her ass thudding against me in tempo.
Her moans were noisy, wild, her fingers tightening in the sheets, knuckles white. I leaned forward, holding on to her ass cheeks, opening them, giving me a clearer sight of my dick disappearing into her tight ass.
I pushed deep, my hips smacking against her ass, the flesh jiggling with each slap. She was so tight, so hot, her ass squeezing my cock whenever I pulled out. I could feel her clench up, her body preparing for my next push.
I encircled her waist with my arm, my dick deep within her ass. “Turn around, Mrs. Mehra,” I growled, my breathing husky. She did as instructed, her body shaking as I positioned her hips, raising her legs onto my shoulders.
Her tits jiggled softly as I started to shift, my pelvis rubbing against her butt. Fire coursed through the bottom of my belly, my balls drawing up tight. I wanted to claim her and make her call out my name.
Slowly, I brought my cock to her wet pussy, pushing her entrance with the tip. Her breath caught, her eyes fluttering shut as I teased her. Her hips rose, her body silently pleading for more. I held her thighs tighter, holding her steady, and slowly, inch by inch, I slid into her pussy.
“Oh god,” she groaned, her back curving as I stuffed her. I hesitated, her pussy throbbing around me, her wetness lubricating my length. I started to thrust, slowly at the beginning. I increased speed gradually, my cock moving in and out of her pussy, her breasts jiggling with the motion.
My hold on her thighs closed more firmly as I pounded harder, quicker. She was burning hot and wet, her pussy wrapping around my cock. I drove harder into her, her cries louder. “Mmm, Krish,” she groaned. “Your cock feels so great in my pussy. Fuck me harder. Prove to me that you’re mine.”
I pulled my cock out of her pussy all the way, only to the tip, then slipped back in again, filling her up. Her moans were audible, her body bucking in ecstasy. I set the pace, fucking her the way I desired, planting in her the awareness that she was mine.
My cock was hard and aching, crying out for release, but my control kept me from coming. Her hold on my thighs grew tighter, her breathing short gasps. “Krish. Oh. Oh,” she groaned. I sensed the warmth from her centre growing, her pussy pulsating, ready to explode.
I pushed harder, harder, my fat cock stretching her. I could feel her body start to spasm, and she screamed, her fingers clawing at my legs. Her pussy constricted my cock in a vice-like grip, her juices flowing around my fat member.
Her juices covered my cock as I withdrew, her body trembling from the power of her orgasm. But I wasn’t finished with her. I turned her onto her stomach, spreading her knees apart and forcing my cock into her wet pussy once more.
Her ass was raised to accept my cock, and I started to thrust deep into her. “Aah Krish, yes…” She moaned. Her pussy clenched me as I pumped in and out, faster and harder.
I felt the familiar heat coiling in the pit of my stomach, my balls aching, ready to release. I fucked her faster, her deep moans were getting louder again. My thick cock slid in and out of her pussy, covered in her juices. Her creases clamped down on me hard, her walls pulsing against my rod.
Her eyes scrunched together, her mouth agape, her breathing ragged. I wrapped my fingers around her hips, my nails buried deep in her flesh. My cock throbbed, my balls constricted with the need to come. My head spun, my body glistening with sweat.
Mrs. Mehra’s breasts jiggled in unison with my hips, her moans rising in pitch. She was so fucking hot, so damn tight, her pussy milking my cock. I could feel the familiar coil in my balls, my release building.
With a great groan, my body slumped in release, my cock pounding in her tight, wet cunt. A flood of hot, thick cum spewed from my dick, slathering her insides, filling her up completely. I groaned, low and extended, my head thrown back, my breathing ragged and quick.
My hold on her hips was still tight, my fingernails buried deep in her soft flesh. My cock still pulsed, my release apparently endless.
I fell on her, my exhausted body, the strain at last released. Mrs. Mehra’s breath caught, her body still shuddering. As much as we tried, we were too sweaty to be perfectly relaxed, but I refused to budge.
Her hand traced patterns on my back, damp strands of hair tickling my face. I sighed, nuzzling against her chest. Her fingers dipped to my dick, holding me loosely as she slid it out of her.
Mrs. Mehra’s fingers closed around my used cock, tenderly stroking it. My eyes closed, a happy sigh escaping my lips. She explored my length with gentle fingers, a small smile on her lips. I could feel my cock responding to her touch, my length growing hard in her hand.
“Mmm, Krish,” she murmured. “This is how it will be from now on. If you get into debt, this will be your payment.”
I chuckled, my lips sliding into a smug grin as I looked up at Mrs. Mehra. Her hand continued to stroke my length, bringing it back to its full size. “That’s not much of a threat, Mrs. Mehra,” I uttered, my eyes locked with hers.
She met my gaze, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. She eased into a more comfortable position, her back propped against the headboard, her legs spread.
Hours later, we stirred, our bodies hot and sticky from the afterglow. Mrs. Mehra released my softening cock, and I rolled off her, my stomach rumbling. Our nap had left us both hungry and dishevelled, a sheen of sweat glistening on our naked skin.
In silence, she redressed, her usual stoic demeanour back. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, a satisfied smile on my lips. She pressed a feather-light kiss on my lips.
I pressed into her kiss, my tongue darting out to tease her lower lip. I slid a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. She melted into me, her body warm and supple against mine. I felt her hand cover my cock, giving it a playful squeeze.
She chuckled, breaking the kiss. “See you later, Krish,” she whispered and left.
The door clicked shut, and I was left alone in my room, the echo of our moment lingering in the air. I groaned, flopping back onto my pillow, my cock stirring. I licked my lips, still tasting her. My hand drifted down my chest, over the moistness left behind by our sweat. I reached my cock, the tip still glistening with her juices and my cum.
I grunted, pulling myself up from a bottomless haze of dreams. My head throbbed, and my tongue stuck dryly to the roof of my mouth. My body was as limp as wet cardboard, an after-effect of Mrs. Mehra’s voracious appetite and the unexpected day of non-stop fucking that had transpired since I’d agreed to her terms.
Needless to say, I stopped paying rent after that. It turns out that she preferred it that way.
Funny how one overdue rent became… a long-term understanding.