Mr. Cohen comes back.

Three days had gone by since the plumber showed up at Gina's door. Nobody else had come. Gina expected the greasy, slimy boiler repairman to knock on her door when the heating system needed to be fired up the other night. She watched his truck arrive from her bay window. She could hear him banging on pipes in the basement, and within an hour, the heat was coming from the baseboard radiators. Gina knew what was about to happen, so she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable. However, when she heard the truck fire up and belch out its unique sound as it pulled away, Gina sighed in relief.

Gina was in the kitchen, heating up a bowl of soup when she was startled from her trance by the banging on the door. Again, she called out, "Who is it," as she tugged on the door, protected by the chain latch.

It was Mr. Cohen! She quickly undid the latch and let her landlord in. A worried look immediately crossed Gina's face, as she wondered what he might want from her tonight. She felt a tingle run up her spine as she recalled dropping to her knees and sucking the turgid flesh. She caught herself staring at his growing bulge when he closed the door behind him.

"Mmm, smells good; whatcha got cookin?" Mr. Cohen made his way to the kitchen, much like he lived there, and wafted the steam towards his long nose. "Tomato soup!"

Gina was taken aback by his nonchalant manner of making himself at home, especially when he dipped a soupspoon into the pot and sipped the hot dinner. "Would you like some?" Gina asked, somewhat sarcastically. She was equally annoyed when he agreed and helped himself, rummaging through the cabinets till he found a bowl, and sat at the table. Gina had not been counting on company, and had not made enough for two. Mr. Cohen ate all that she had! She had nothing left, and wouldn't be able to get anything till tomorrow!

"Mmm! Great! Sit down." Mr. Cohen pointed to the only other chair in the kitchen. Gina occupied the space as ordered, folding her arms in front as if in protest. She sat idle, watching as he finished the bowl with loud slurping noises, drinking from the upturned bowl. "Gina! Are you scared, living here in this apartment?"

Gina did not expect that question. "Um? No. Why?"

"Well, I have a security system in place at the front and rear doors of the complex. There hasn't been any trouble here since I bought this place eighteen years ago. And yet, you have all those latches and bolts on the door. What's up?" He looked at Gina imploringly.

Gina didn't have an answer. Not one that would make any sense. All the other tenants in the building were in their sixties. There was no threat from anyone, other than Mr. Cohen. She just shrugged her shoulders.

"Gina!" Mr. Cohen placed his large hands on Gina's shoulders. "Since we have our little arrangement, I would like it if I didn't have to go through such a hassle to enter." His grip became somewhat tighter on Gina's small frame. "Don't lock the door!" Gina became worried as his hands slowly drifted down her arms to her wrists, resting on top of her, now sweaty palms, in her lap. "Open door policy," he softly stated with a soothing tone in his voice.

Suddenly, Mr. Cohen jerked upright, smiling wickedly as his demeanor carried a more animated nature. "So! I understand the plumber stopped by the other day?" Gina nodded. "Did you pay him?"

Gina stumbled for an answer and ashamedly replied, "I guess you could say so."

Mr. Cohen roared with joviality. "Great! You got the invoice? I need it for my records!"

Gina tried to recall what she did with the yellow slip of paper. She didn't think she threw it away. She left the kitchen and rummaged through the pile of papers atop her messy bedroom bureau. After a few panic filled seconds had passed, she located the paper and brought it to Mr. Cohen.

He held the paper in his hands and carefully examined the invoice. "Damn people charge you an arm and a leg nowadays!" He continued looking over the paper. "I thought you said you paid him?"

"I did," Gina implored.

"Well there's nothing on this, stating that you did. This is useless, unless there's a signature saying that it's been paid." He slammed the paper down on the table for Gina to inspect.

Gina knew she didn't get any signature. She didn't know she was supposed to. She could tell Mr. Cohen was becoming angry with her. She had to think of something fast! She did. "I got an idea. I had asked him to fix my faucet when he was here, and he said all work orders had to go through you. If you called him to fix the plumbing in here, I could pay him for that, and get his signature on this one also. Could you do that?" Gina's eyes had a glimmer of hope. She recalled the handsome plumber, and didn't mind having to pay him for his services.

Mr. Cohen seemed to think it over, and agreed. "In the meantime, I think we should get to know each other a little better." He stood, dwarfing Gina in her seat, and pulled her to her feet. Still holding her hand, again, like he lived there, he dragged Gina to the bedroom. Upon entering the room, he noticed the total disarray, and cleared the bed of all its contents. Everything ended up on the floor. "You ought to work on keeping this place clean."

Gina was pulled to the bed, atop Mr. Cohen, and instantly had her face pinned against his as they kissed. Only seconds had passed when Gina found herself rolled over and pinned beneath his massive build. Mr. Cohen quickly propped himself upright and leered at Gina's lithe form beneath him. He reached for her blouse and tore it apart, sending buttons flying everywhere, tinkling as they hit the bare spots on the wooden floor. He fumbled with her bra, pulling and tugging at it, growing increasingly frustrated, until the clasps bent. "No more bras," he mumbled, "don't wear them!" Gina's white cotton bra was flung over his shoulders as Mr. Cohen's eyes feasted on the bare treats now exposed to him. His large palms engulfed each tit and mauled at the pliable flesh until Gina's nipples began to harden from the attention. He pinched and twisted each nipple, pulling it towards the ceiling, until each one was as hard as his confined cock.

Even though Gina's body was being tormented beneath her physically domineering landlord, it was responding with sexual electricity. She could feel her pussy walls dampen with her fluid as the blood rushed to her nipples, and his crotch ground against her pelvis. Unconsciously she began rolling her hips, grinding back against the pressing pole between her legs.

Mr. Cohen ripped at the already torn jeans, yanking them down, along with her panties. They too were shucked over his shoulder and landed somewhere on the floor amidst all her other clothing scattered there. "Skirts, and no panties," he mumbled again, making sure Gina heard him. He now ground forcefully against Gina's pussy, making sure the friction was heating her up.

Indeed it was, as Gina tried to fight back the growing sensation. She could feel her cunt lips swell, and the lubrication spread as their hips rolled against each other. Gina knew this would probably classify as a ****, but as the tension built, she found herself wanting it more and more. She even began moaning, not knowing what she was saying, but encouraging him on, nonetheless. Moments later, she felt him stop, just short of reaching an orgasm herself, when she looked up and watched him fish out the monster sized meat stick and position it between her legs. He was going to fuck her with the oversized pole, and she knew it would rip her small frame apart! He pushed forward, taking the wind out from within her body as its fist sized head pushed inside her clenching walls. "God you are soooo tight," he cooed as he continued slowly pushing forward. Gina could feel her pussy painfully stretch as he pushed forward, inch by excruciating inch. Her head was thrashing from side to side as he continued until he could go no further. Gina was filled to capacity. She couldn't breathe. It felt as though his cock was buried beneath her ribcage. Then the withdraw process began, and both of them could feel the vacuum sucking sensation, as Gina's pussy contracted around the shaft, unwilling to let it go free. Her juices coated the thick shaft, making the next penetration much easier. Back and forth he sawed, pushing painfully at her innermost cuntal walls, trying to push directly into her womb. Each time he withdrew, he would penetrate a little deeper. Gina was slowly becoming adjusted to the massive girth. She could feel her clit pop out and rub against his hairy curls every time he pushed forward. Then it hit Gina like a freight train going a hundred miles an hour. Her whole body froze for a split second and then jerked wildly as the world came crashing down all around her. Her pussy flooded with her fluids, seeping out, and coating the pistoning pole. As Gina thrashed about she **** herself down onto the piston rod, burying it in her till she could feel his balls slap against her ass. It hurt like hell, but Gina was overwhelmed with the sensations, that it didn't matter. She fucked back like her life depended on it, and her pussy wanted to devour the invading missile.

Mr. Cohen couldn't believe his luck as the young vixen swallowed his pole between her legs. He had her right where he wanted her, yet he wanted to push his control over her to the limits! She was his, and he was going to take all he could get. Gina was crashing through an obvious series of orgasms as her oversensitive erogenous zones sparked another set of explosions in her body. Mr. Cohen was ready to explode himself, so he quickly pulled out of Gina's spasming cunt. She groaned with disappointment at the instant void, but quickly found her mouth filled with the cock that had been pounding at her pussy.

This was the first time she had ever tasted her self, and was horrified at the thought. She didn't have much time to think about it though. Within a split second the cock in her mouth pulsed and jet after jet of hot, thick, syrupy manseed filled her throat. She swallowed what she could and spit out the rest, keeping herself from gagging. At that point the cock was pulled from her mouth, and it continued spraying, covering her face with his cum. By the time he was done, both of Gina's eyes had pools of cum in them, several streaks trailed across her forehead into her hair, her cheeks displayed what she couldn't swallow, and there were a few droplets on her nose.

She was finally recovering from her orgasm, as she felt him press his cock against her lips again. She couldn't open her eyes, so she yielded and let the meat fall against her tongue. Once again, she was **** to taste her tart wetness on his pole, but now it was mixed with the salty sperm still in her mouth and lips. Even though the thought of what she looked like, and what she was doing disgusted her, Gina couldn't deny that the taste wasn't all that bad. The more she thought about it, the more she sucked the cock clean, the more turned on she became. Gina couldn't believe that she was actually getting horny again!

She felt the bed creak as Mr. Cohen raised himself up off the mattress. Gina couldn't tell, but gathered by what she heard, that he was getting dressed. "I gotta go. Remember what I told you. Keep the door unlocked. Get signatures. No bras. Skirts. No panties. See ya soon!" Gina heard him exit and close the front door behind him.