Hello SSC,

The only bit of context you need for this is that I am in the process of moving. I am leaving my current place and will soon be moving in a new one, cue today’s porno-flick story.

So, I went and got the keys to the new place a few days ago. When I got there, I got introduced to one of the landlords, a man in his mid-forties, well kept, well groomed, well spoken, business types. Ugh… Why are these clean cut guys so attractive?!? Why do I always fall so hard for that type? You wouldn’t think that an alt-girl, with tattoos, faux leather pants, metal band T would get weak knees from a well-thought-of man, but there I was.

Anyway, up to the apartment we go. A few more paperwork to sign, contracts to read, and a final inspection in case the previous tenant, who had left the previous day, made some kind of mess while moving out.

Reading this, you know as well as I did then that I couldn’t not try to do something! The curse of the slut.

We’re alone in this empty place, we look around, have a chat, friendly, flirty. I don’t hesitate to touch him whenever I have to say something, a squeeze of the arm here, putting my hand on his as we go over the contract line by line. He’s receptive, his gaze lingers on me, he doesn’t flinch as we flirt. We finish the paperwork. He officially welcomes me to my new place. The tension is evident. I ask him, straight up, about this exact scenario we are in… If he ever… He laughs… He tells me most tenants in the building he owns are retired older folks, but some of these ladies… I don’t get a direct answer, but the underlying truth is obvious.

I kiss him. He doesn’t flinch, returns the kiss, and presses me against the counter. He overlooks me, I touch him, his stomach, and go down with my hands. I can feel him hard.

He pulls me up on the countertop as we continue kissing. I hold my balance as his hands move from sides to my breasts. He grabs and massages over my shirt. I enjoy the feeling, being desired, belonging. Now it’s one of his hands that rubs downard on my stomach until it meets the waistband of my pants.

With what sounds like a desperate sigh, he stops kissing and touching me. All so he could undo my pants and pull them off me. I take this opportunity to touch myself, I am wet, I want this man. His fingers interweave with mine as he steps forward to kiss me once more. I touch my clit, he spreads my fold, presses and probes my pussy. I moan as I finally feel his finger pushing inside me. I instinctually move my hips as he reaches for my pleasure. The feeling is exquisite and l lose myself in the moment, enjoying every second of it.

Again, with a sigh of displeasure, he stops touching me. The bastard steps back, although in frustration. As fast as he can, he undoes his belt and brings his pants and underwear down. His cocks stands at the ready as he stands back up. We both know what he wants, what I want, what’s coming next.I urge him on to fuck me. He grabs my hips and pulls me towards him. The angle is not perfect, but he manages to align himself and enter me. God this feels good! Why does it always feel so good?!? I moan. I scream. He moans. He laughs. He shuts me down with a hand on my mouth. I lean back. I complement his truths by touching myself. My body is electrified. He pumps, he grabs my chest under my shirt. He pants. He cums. He collapses. I enjoy the feeling, the completion, a job well done. I laugh. I feel a glob of cum fall out of me as he steps away.

He takes a few minutes more to make sure I cum. His fingers are back inside me, going back and forth at my commands. He finds the spots, and doesn’t relent until I flinch and spasm around his fingers. I let the wave consume me, moan and laugh, and try to hold on to that feeling until I no longer can.

We take a few minutes to catch our breath. With a few mentions of the intimacy we shared, resume small talk as we dress back up. He makes sure I have everything I need, both as part of his job and as a gentleman. He gets his personal card out, hands it to me and tells me to call him if there’s anything I need, and asks if he can go. I let him leave. I take some time to appreciate this new place of mine before washing the countertop and the floor with wipes. I finally leave, going back home to work.