The Leary Landlord

I guess the idea came to me the moment the first pretty young thing wasn't able to pay his or her rent on time. My name's Rick by the way, and I own properties I've converted to bed-sits. I let rooms out to students and the thing with most students is, money is always tight. They're not usually earning anything and education on top of a social life is a costly business. What most of them do have however is a lovely young body and I really do enjoy a lovely young body. My body's okay for a man in his mid forties but let's face it, it no longer functions as a babe magnet. That said, I'm getting my share though of course, I have to be very careful to pick the right kind of kid to go to bed with. By that, I mean the most lonely and desparate kind. The ones at their wit's end who feel they can't cope, unless I help them.

I start off stoking their despair with threats of eviction and how that would impact on their chances of completing whatever course they're taking. Then I come on all friendly and sympathetic like. How they react when I place a reassuring arm around their shoulders tells me heaps about a tenants possibilities. If they shrug me off straight away, I'm probably backing a loser and so I've nothing to lose by evicting them but a bad tenant. If they accept this innocent bodily contact, I start making with the compliments and flattery in an attempt to boost their ego. At the same time, I feed them a sob story about my own lonely existence and frustration. When I feel they're sympathetically ready, I introduce the term 'sexual frustration' into the conversation. This is their opportunity to leap to my aid in alleviating my sexual frustration but so far, only one student has ever done so.

He was studying quantum mechanics and recommended masturbation as a surefire cure for sexual frustration. I cheekily pretended not to know what he was talking about and requested a demonstration. The lad obligingly gave me one. He got his cock out and manipulated it to a very impressive errection indeed. I copied him and suggested it might be more fun if we wanked each other off. Since we were now both thoroughly turned on, the lad was well up for it and it thrilled me greatly to feel the firmness and the heat of the boy's magnificent member. The elasticity of his penis's skin as my hand moved it over his cock's inner firmness was truly awesome. But of course, there was more to this boy than just cock and I wanted to see and feel all of him. At first, I merely thought it would be rather nice to take total dominion over this boy and make him my one and only queer sex . Very soon however, this thought grew into a strong urge to do just that and finally, I decided to risk giving in to this most thrilling kinky urge.

I stopped wanking him and so he stopped wanking me. We were both as horny as hell by now so suddenly breaking off physical contact like that only served to enhance the erotic tension between us in his silent room.

"Take your clothes off." It came out as an order though I'm not sure I intended it to be. To my delight, the skinny young man started to strip, as hurridly did I. As soon as we were both naked, I grabbed him and wrestled him towards the bed, our cocks banging together as we went. He wasn't really resisting and for the first time, I had to acknowledge the fact that he was gay and I definitely wasn't. What was natural to him was queer to me and it was the very unnatural queerness of the feel of male flesh in close contact with my own that had my heart thumping so excitingly heavily in my chest. Yet I felt powerful. I felt truly alive. I bent the youth over the edge of the bed and started rimming him, enjoying the smoothness of his hairless arse cheeks as they slipped over my thrusting cock. I'd have been content to go all the way to orgasm like that, but the lad pleaded with me to come inside him, so I did. I properly buggered the smooth skinned boy and thoroughly enjoyed it. He enjoyed it too. So much so that he tried regularly to avoid paying rent. In the end, I was much relieved when he got his degree and had to leave to get a proper job.

The first girl I propositioned? Hm! Good question. I think her name was Mary, or Maria, or something like that. She was a pretty little brunette with a permanently sad expression on her face. She never went out at night and didn't have visitors. I don't recall what she was studying and now I come to think of it, I don't think I ever saw a book of any description in her room. But she wrote. A lot. There was always a folder lying around in her room with a neatly written page in longhand nearby. No laptop. No printer. No expensive clothes. No TV, even though I offered to rent her one. I just couldn't wait for her to default on her rent and just three months into her course, she did. What happened next? Well, to find out, the choice is yours; you can either wait for my next chapter or you can write one yourself. I'd certainly love to read your version of events . . .