Our Saint of a Landlord

I live with Mark in this shitty one bedroom apartment. The paint peels in every room, the neighbors argue all night and the faucet leaks no matter how many times we tighten it, it’s really shitty.

We move in twelve years ago when we are broke and in love. Rent is $800 back then. Now it’s $1,200 but we only pay $600 every month. Mark thinks Mr. Johnson is just a nice old guy who likes us and gives us a break because we’re good tenants. He is always saying “We’re lucky to have Mr. Johnson babe. Not every landlord cuts us slack like that.” I smile and nod. I never correct him.

Mr. Johnson is sixty-one, widowed and still strong. He has thick arms from years of fixing things around the building. He starts coming by the first year we live here. Mark is out looking for day labor and I am home alone crying because we are two weeks behind and I don’t know how we eat. Mr. Johnson knocks and says he notices the rent is late. I beg for more time. He looks at me in my old tank top and shorts and his eyes linger. He says “I can help…..but only if you help me”

I am twenty-two then, desperate and scared. I agreed to let him fuck me on the couch while Mark is gone. He cums inside me. He leaves $200 cash on the table and says “That covers this month.” I cry after he leaves, not because of what happened, but at the situation we were in. But the next month we are late again. He comes back. Same deal. Same couch. Same creampie. I stop crying after the third time. I start looking forward to it.

Ten years later it is still the same routine. Mark leaves for job hunting or odd jobs around eight. Mr. Johnson knocks by nine. Sometimes he brings coffee. Sometimes he just bends me over the kitchen counter. He likes it when I wear the little sundresses Mark buys me. He says they make me look young. He fucks me hard but slow and always finishes deep inside. I cum every time now. My pussy clenches around him like it knows him better than Mark’s. He groans my name when he unloads and calls me his good girl. I whisper back thank you for the rent because I know it turns him on.

Mark never suspects. He comes home tired, kisses me and says “Mr. Johnson texted he’s good with half again this month. We’re so lucky.” I smile and nod. I kiss him back with the same mouth that sucks Mr. Johnson off two hours earlier.

Sometimes I still have his cum leaking down my thighs when Mark hugs me. He never notices the wet spot on my shorts.

This morning Mark leaves early for a construction gig. Mr. Johnson comes at 8:30. He doesn’t even knock. He has a key. He finds me in the shower. He pushes me against the tiles, lifts my leg and slides in raw. Water runs down my back while he fucks me standing. He comes fast with thick hot cum flooding me until it drips down my leg with the shower water. He kisses my neck and says “Tell Mark the rent’s covered again. You’re worth every penny.”

I moan thank you Mr. Johnson.

He leaves. I finish showering. Mark comes home at six with a small paycheck and a tired smile. He hugs me from behind while I cook dinner. His hand slides under my shirt. I tense for a second because I still feel full from earlier. He doesn’t notice. He kisses my neck and says “We’re so lucky to have this place. Mr. Johnson’s a saint.”

I turn around and kiss him deep. “Yeah” I say. “He really is.”

Tonight Mark fucks me. He is gentle and sweet. He cums inside me quicklyt. I still fake my moan. When he falls asleep I lie there feeling both loads mix inside me, Mark’s and Mr. Johnson’s. I touch myself quietly until I cum again thinking about the next time Mark leaves.

I love Mark. I do. But I love the way Mr. Johnson fucks me more. I love the discount he givbes us. I love the secret.

Mark will never know.

And as long as the rent stays half price I’m not going to tell him.