A strict-domination/degradation story about a Northern lass (please excuse this Southerner's interpretation) trying her luck with the new lodger, under her mum's nose...
Thanks to Amber Cummings for proofing/previewing!
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The new gentleman-lodger moved in on a Tuesday. Charlie's mum Jen insisted on calling him that, she said it sounded more classy. He was in his forties, around her mum's age, dark-haired and maybe a bit broody-looking. Charlie thought he was fit, for an older guy; and in general, really. As he settled in he kept mostly to himself, but she often noticed him smiling at her mum for maybe a little longer than necessary now and again; it seemed like mum noticed as well, always beaming back, and watching him slyly whenever he left the room. The times when he glanced at Charlie, she couldn't help feel a little jolt herself.
She'd had boyfriends before, on and off. So did her mum sometimes, and Charlie couldn't help but find herself drawn to them just a little more than her own. Not that she'd ever try moving in on them, she'd never do that to her own mother; well, that and she'd always been too nervous. This time though, for all her mum's making gooey eyes at the Guy behind his back, it wouldn't technically be stealing or anything. Besides, she wanted to make him notice her as much as her mum. More. It was time to see what she'd been missing out on with all those older guys before.
It took her a few weeks to work up the nerve, enough time for them all to get comfortable with living around each other. While she was trying to get the bottle to make her move, she found herself cringing inside every time the Guy and her mum shared a grin. Maybe she was imagining things, but it looked like they were getting cosier together every day. She had to wait until just the right moment, when she knew mum would be out for a good while and the Guy would still be around; he didn't seem to go out much on the weekends, and mum went out for brunch with her mates now and again (very classy) and stayed out for a few hours. Late in the morning would be perfect; Charlie bided her time. She went for it at last on a Sunday.
Then, it took all morning to get ready and decide what to wear. In the end, she 'borrowed' a little black leather miniskirt and tight white boob tube from her mum's wardrobe (handy that they were the same size, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know what mum had got them for). The shocking pink thong-and-wonderbra combo she'd snapped on underneath were a recent sly buy of her own. The blonde hair she wore down to her shoulders was freshly conditioned and brushed into soft curves around her face, her mouth got a coating of a dark scarlet lippy of her mum's she'd always had her eye on, her eyebrows were newly plucked and she had lashes for days. She only left off when there was a sexy stranger (she hoped) looking back at her from the mirror.
It was a bit of a pain to totter onto the thick living room carpet in a pair of mum's best heels, but she coveted them and they were strappy and red and gorgeous and the final thing she needed to feel like a proper pornstar when she made her advance on the Guy. Still sort of awkward going, but she plastered on a big saucy smile and pushed on regardless. He was sat on the couch, clacking away idly on his laptop, and looked up straight away when she came in. He was staring right at her. Charlie didn't feel a jolt so much as a whole lightning bolt.
"Hiya, duck. Wanna brew?"
It seemed like an obvious opener, but her heart sank when she saw the half-full mug on the coffee table in front of him. Still, he leant forward and reached out a long arm, wrapped his fingers around the barrel of the mug and raised it in one smooth motion, downing the rest with hardly a sound. When he lowered the mug again she realised with a start that he hadn't looked away from her the entire time.
"Thanks," he stretched it towards her, dangling it from a couple of fingers, still pinning her to the wall with his stare.
There was a short gap while Charlie went and actually made the tea, quietly cursing herself for the stupid idea and the wasted time. The Guy was still there when she got back at least. He closed his laptop and put it down on the coffee table, then shifted over a little on the couch. Making room for her. Holding the steaming mug in front of her like a shield, she shuffled into the room and tried her best to drop gracefully down on the seat. After a second or two, she handed him the mug; he took it without a word and put it down next to the computer. She was right there next to him, he was gazing right into her eyes, she had him right where she wanted.
"Fancy a jump?"
She'd tried her best to sound confident, but the words fell out of her stupid gob like they were trying to escape. Idiot! He didn't look away though, one of those killer grins even starting up. She didn't know whether to stare more at his eyes or his lips. They both seemed hungry all of a sudden.
"Charlie. How old are you?"
She hadn't been expecting that one.
"Wha... Fook off!" she rolled her eyes in protest, "I'm nineteen, me!"
"What's that, dog years?"
She giggled hysterically; it seemed like the best bet.
"Oi! I am too..."
His grin was widening as his gaze narrowed, but she hoped it was just for effect.
"Hah, well then," the Guy paused, but he was clearly milking it; she was almost sure. Then, "Ok. You really want it? Here are the rules: first, don't call it a 'jump'. This isn't a bouncy castle. I don't jump, I fuck; understand?"
Charlie flushed from ear to ear with the intensity in his tone; she wasn't used to hearing him like this, the Guy had always been so quiet and polite. There was something predatory in the way he leaned in slowly towards her, which made her want to just lie back and be devoured. It took her a few moments to notice he was still waiting for an answer, so she nodded dumbly.
"Good. I fuck you. I'll fuck your cunt with my hard prick. Maybe I'll fuck your tight little arsehole as well. Maybe I'll grab your head in both hands and fuck your mouth, and your throat. Or maybe," he reached over with a hooked finger and plucked one after the other the bright-pink straps of her bra, exposed as they were over her bare shoulders, "some time I'll yank off your top, tug open your bra and wank myself off all over your plump young tits. But you have to ask for it. Nicely and politely; that's rule number two. Got it?"
The surprisingly obscene language and rapid-fire delivery left Charlie speechless, her head spinning. She hadn't expected this at all, but she wanted more of it. Another nod, quick and impatient.
"Good girl. Last rule, then: I bet you don't want Jen finding out, not right now. I won't tell if you don't..."
Charlie just about managed to find her voice again.
"What, mum? Oh god, no!"
The Guy's chuckle felt like warm, sticky honey scratching softly over every inch of her body. The hairs rose all along her spine.