This is a bit of a long one.

Back when I was a broke student, I was looking for a reasonably priced flat in a reasonable (read: not too stabby) location with my brother. If you’ve been renting in the south of the UK at any point in the last 15 years, I wouldn’t fault you for chuckling at my naivete. We were looking for places let directly by a landlord, thinking it would be cheaper (because of no agency fees) and maybe they would care more about the state of things (would they fuck).

I found a flat that was just outside of budget but in a great location and perfectly acceptable condition. So far none of them have worked out so I thought I might as well do a viewing on my day off later; it was either going to be worth the extra and we’d somehow manage financially, or maybe I could even agree a cheaper rent arguing just how upstanding and hardworking citizens we both were. I was as yet fresh and unaware of the avarices of the world.

It didn’t take long to arrange a viewing for my day off and I was quite happy it was still available at all; flats were sometimes gone without so much as an in-person viewing. When I got to the place I was greeted at the door by, to my surprise, a landlady. In hindsight it’s pretty sexist of me to assume landpeople are always male, although I’m pretty sure they’re way overrepresented.

She was a kind of tomboyish brunette, slightly taller than me, not curvy but rather built, wearing a simple, overwashed white t-shirt, and what I could describe as outdoor/hiking trousers, topped off with boots that were evidently quite muddy until only recently. She wasn’t someone you’d describe as conventionally attractive, but there was something very alluring about her angular face and her relaxed confidence (I think we used to call it swagger) I found to be very hot. She had some sort of Northern or countryside accent I couldn’t place. She was most likely older than me by a margin but I never found out how much.

I put on my best cute young guy persona and followed her in. Sometimes that worked. The flat was about as expected, perfectly okay (high bar, I know) even had a dishwasher I didn’t know about (!!), and I loved the area. While we were checking the rooms, she was asking about the usual details. I did my best to play up how much of a model tenancy ours would be. She asked about partying and uni life, no doubt trying to suss out if we were going to drunkenly ruin the flat or get noise complaints from the neighbours. Then about girlfriends who might want to sleep there or sneakily move in later. I was thinking that’s quite personal and not at all appropriate to ask a potential tenant, but I was enamored by her by now and she could do no wrong.

I answered in the negative to any attachments and stated I wasn’t in the market for anything serious at the time. I wasn’t sure what was the right response to that question, and I couldn’t read her expression to see how I was doing. I asked what she did, just to make it feel like less of an interview and find out a bit about her. Her family were in agriculture. So that’s where the money was from, and that explains the clothes and the mud. Also helped me place her scent, a mix of musky, floral, a hint of fresh sweat, and what reminded me slightly of the horse-girls I’ve been with before. If you know, you know.

She asked point blank if I wanted to take the place. I said yes. She said let’s talk details. We sat on the couch. She hit me with the whammy. Two others have already offered on the flat earlier in the day, the second one outbidding the first, taking it even further out of budget. I felt my heart sank. Another wasted viewing, travelling back and forth for nothing, getting that glimmer of hopelessness when things repeatedly don’t work out. I was a bit pissed too that she didn’t let me know even before I came.

I flat out said we couldn’t afford it. Could barely stretch to the original asking price but taking it higher would be irresponsible. And no guarantee we wouldn’t be outbid again. Her expression softened, as if she was disappointed or felt sorry for us. She said we would have been good tenants. I repeated that I loved the flat and the location, so I was quite disappointed too, but that’s renting life. She sighed, thought for a few seconds, and asked if I wanted to work something out. I said sure, in a suspicious tone with a head-tilt, fully expecting this to be along the lines of a massive up-front deposit or some other scheme where we got ultimately fucked over. Then she said the words I’ll never forget:

‘Give me some face and I’ll knock some of the price off.’

I was taken aback by the bluntness and I wasn’t absolutely certain about that expression. ‘Give you face?’

She grinned at my ignorance and motioned with her head to the spot on the carpet just in front of her. I was on my knees in that very spot in an instant. I’d have done it for nothing in exchange. She stood without a word and worked her trousers off. As soon as her scent hit me, she totally had me. She was sporting a full bush, which was my first at the time, and something I’m still in love with. I was about to dive in, but she stopped me and held my head.

I thought she was having second thoughts, but instead she laid down some ground rules. I strictly shouldn’t expect anything else. How much, and if anything she was going to knock off the price would depend on the job I did. I felt like a cheap whore who didn’t even negotiate before betraying my eagerness. I was embarrassed about how much that turned me on. I nodded and thanked her for the opportunity. She liked that.

She stopped holding me back, grabbed me by my hair and pulled me confidently between her thighs. It took all of me not to devour her straight away, but I wanted to impress so I started slow, sucking on her lips, licking her softly, pushing my tongue in deep to get more of her wetness to taste. It was strong but phenomenal.

‘Don’t beat around it. Just get on my clit.’

Yes ma’am. I focused entirely on her clit, testing how she liked it licked. She wasn’t very sensitive so responded to strong, fast, constant, flat-tongued licks. I knew I got into the right rhythm when her breathing turned into low moans and she pulled my head into her stronger. She started moving with it. First just squirming but soon holding my head in place with both hands and grinding against my tongue. Her orgasm came soon after. She came grunting instead of the stereotypical high-pitch moan, which was incredibly hot. Made it feel somehow intimate that she didn’t care what it sounded like and just enjoyed herself.

I got my tongue off her clit once she came down and licked up the thick wetness from her entrance that gathered while I was focusing on her clit. Wanted to make sure I finished well and cleaned her up. I visibly swallowed it all down so she could see.

She took a few breaths to collect herself. I asked if she wanted me to continue. She said she was normally a one-and-done girl. Huh. The whole thing couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. I asked about how I did. With typical English understatement, she said she couldn’t complain. Not the glowing review I wanted to hear, but her smile and attitude said I got the results.

She said that she needed that. Now with a clear head though she needed to evaluate what she said because it’s about lot of money. I thought to myself great, well done you dirty slag, prostituted yourself and won’t even get paid for it. I wiped my messy face with my t-shirt. Didn’t make me any less turned on. Then it took a turn for the better. She said she can’t reasonably give me a discount for a one-off. I liked where this was going. I said that’s fair, and I was willing to work something out. She offered to go below the original asking price as long as I serviced her every few weeks when she was in town. You know I agreed without a second thought.

We agreed on some more ground rules. Absolutely no contact other than usual tenancy stuff and her reaching out for an appointment. Absolutely no other activities, not even a hint of suggesting them. I agreed.

And that’s how it worked for the next 18-ish months. We never did anything more than small talk, I still practically don’t know anything about her, I never saw her fully naked, we never did anything other than me going down on her, usually a short one, and she never lingered for aftercare. In the end we had to move for unrelated reasons and she sadly declined the longer journey to our new place. This whole thing is still on the top of my memory bank for rainy days.