A tenant who liked what she saw during the walkthrough

From the first time I walked Gabbie and her best friend Alyssa through one of our homes, I knew she’d be trouble. The pair of college roommates had just graduated and were looking to move a few hours away from home and start their careers.

Gabbie has one of those naturally flirty personalities, but I kept catching her eyeing me up and down during the showing process. Little smiles, laughs, asking me if I’d show them around the area if they moved in. We exchanged numbers and just a few days later, I told them the place was theirs.

We set up a little group chat so if there were any questions or problems, I’d be around to fix them. For the next couple weeks, things were very professional. A couple texts about when trash day was, who had to mow the lawn, or where the best places to go grocery shopping were.

After the third week, I received a text from the group chat. “What’re you doing tonight? Alyssa and I want to go to the bars but we don’t know anyone around here. Do you want to accompany us?” I thought about it for a while, but I couldn’t wriggle out of any obligations I had the very next morning. I begrudgingly declined, maybe next time.

But later, around midnight, another text from Gabbie came through, and this time directly – no group chat. It read: “I had to stay sober tonight, and I STILL got pulled over leaving the bar? Is this normal around here?”

“It isn’t”, I told her. She said something about Alyssa getting drunk, and being a little loud outside the bar. “Maybe the cop saw that, and decided to make sure the driver wasn’t drunk”, she mused.

“I’m happy you were sober, it would’ve been an awfully brutal way to end the night in handcuffs”

The next text lit up my eyes.

“If the night ends in handcuffs, it better be you putting me in them”

I paused, reading this text multiple times. Is this just playful Saturday night texting, or is my tenant really trying to make such a bold move?

“That can be arranged”, I responded.

In the next 15 minutes, I was in my car and on my way over to the property. Across the 30 minute drive, I kept expecting an “lol, jk” kind of text. Maybe it was a prank. Maybe I misread the signals.

Five minutes away. Picture message. She’s got a full-body sized mirror in her bedroom, and she’s in a red set of underwear. “Waiting”, was the caption.

I accelerated. If this was a joke, Gabbie was really committed to the but. I pulled into the driveway, and opened the front door with my spare key. In the darkness of the entryway, Gabbie said “Alyssa is asleep, can I get you something to drink?” I don’t even think I processed the question.

No more than ten seconds later we were making out against the door. In between breaths, I asked “so, handcuffs, huh?” That little giggle she had when I first walked her through the place made another appearance. “Yeah, you got any handy?”

“In fact, I do.”

Gabbie was a little surprised, and looked at me with a raised eyebrow of skepticism. “Oh, so you’re into THAT sort of thing, mister?”

“It’s a fairly recent development. Only for the past 12-13 years or so”

A grin came across her face. Suddenly, the making out intensified. She practically pulled me to her bedroom. Before I knew it, she was on her knees in that little red set and I wasn’t thinking anymore, only feeling. Acting on instinct.

The remainder of the night fiery and loud. So loud I worried not simply that we’d wake Alyssa, but the neighbors next door, or even down the block. I told her that maybe she needed some red hand prints on her cute little ass to match her set.

“Hit me harder. I like it. I want it.”

She got it. Over, and over, and over.

The handcuffs didn’t take long to come out. My most vivid memory is of her in doggy style, wriggling her little hands around helplessly. She became so noisy I felt compelled to make sure she bit down onto her pillow. Not just because dulling the noise is something a good neighbor would do, but because in that moment, she deserved it.

At the end of it all, she climbed on top of me and told me that I wasn’t allowed to leave until I filled her pussy. For one brief moment, my professional side woke up. “What if I get a tenant pregnant?”

But the thought left as quickly as it came. That mischievous look on her face, the makeup from a night out with her friends streaked and smeared. I couldn’t say no.

She’s still my favorite tenant.