Making The Rent 1

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Stacey, who lived in a small apartment near the downtown diner where she worked as a waitress. Stacey was a blonde Midwestern beauty with big blue eyes, a cute button nose, and full red lips. She possessed a wholesome charm that immediately made her a hit with the gentlemen. But neither a winsome smile nor a bubbly personality made her quite enough money to cover the rent.

"These all-natural double dees, on the other hand, do bring in plenty of tips," interjected Stacey.

For some baffling reason, our heroine could hear the narrator! She sat up in bed on her maroon covers, confidently thrusting forth two magnificent breasts of the declared cup size. She wore a white tank-top that barely covered them, displaying the faint outlines of her nipples.

"It's the same reason I let the occasional slap on the ass go by," she continued. "It pays for this."

Stacey proudly held up a crisp check for SIX-HUNDRED SEVENTY-FIVE and 0/100 DOLLARS, made out to the apartment management in neat cursive handwriting. But little did our heroine know, regardless of any flip eyerolling she might be casting the narrator's way, that if she could not honor the check, she would find herself at the mercy of a lusty landlord: desperate circumstances from which she could only free herself by—

"Getting banged," cut in Stacey impatiently. "You're all reading this, hoping my check bounces and this somehow turns into a porno where I end up 'making the rent' by getting banged every which way. Wait, is that the title? Seriously?"

And so, one late morning, after a particularly exhausting night shift at the diner, Stacey woke up to the sound of loud, angry knocking at the door. Who might it be?

"Yeah, um, still awake. Remember, I was talking a second ago?" said Stacey, mildly annoyed, as she hopped off the bed. "Obviously, that's Frank. You know, the apartment manager? Or the 'lusty landlord,' for you imaginative types?"

Our heroine's firm, shapely buttocks, covered by nothing but a lacy, emerald-green thong, swayed enticingly as she went out to the living room to answer the door.

"Emerald? What am I, a leprechaun?" she snorted. "These are jade. But thank you; I work out a lot. God, wait a minute, I'm coming!"

She opened the door. It was indeed Frank the manager, as Stacey through blind coincidence managed to guess. Frank was a tall, handsome man: early thirties, dark hair, muscular build. He had, however, an unfortunate mustache that granted him the aura of a sex predator, and repulsed Stacey to no end. A lecherous grin spread across his face, amplifying his creepiness.

"Hey Frank," greeted Stacey with a fake smile.

"Hello Stacey," replied Frank, hungrily ogling the pretty blonde tenant before settling, puzzled, on her purportedly jade-green thong. "Why are you in your underwear?"

"I don't know, Frank," sighed Stacey. "I didn't write this ridiculous story. Now, is there something I can help you with, or are you just here to check my Brazilian wax?"

"You know why I'm here," said Frank, giving her bikini line a double take. "Your rent's past due again. If you don't settle up, I'm gonna have to start eviction proceedings."

Our heroine gazed open-mouthed at Frank for a few awkward moments.

"Frank," she said with affected calm, "I paid the last three months on time, though I don't know why I bother; I've been telling you forever about that leaky faucet. Anyway, here's next month," she said, waving the dubious check in Frank's face. "And besides, you guys both know it's not even the first today, right?"

"Who were you talking to in there?" asked Frank, confused, as he took the check.

"Never mind," sighed Stacey. "The point is, I'm not short on rent money this month. I'm not in 'desperate circumstances,' and my check isn't gonna bounce, so if you came here to act out some absurd wet dream about bagging a big-breasted blonde, I'm afraid you're gonna be disappointed. So if you could just take that check and be on your way, it would be much appreciated."

Our heroine stood there, hands on hips, awaiting the manager's answer. After a few seconds of silence, he broke unexpectedly into laughter.

"Wow, I always knew there was sexual tension between us, but I had no idea it was so intense on your end!" he exclaimed, punctuating his point with a satisfied grunt. "Don't worry about this check, baby," inserting the paper lengthwise into Stacey's ample cleavage. "You don't have to be ashamed about your bank account. Lucky for you, there are other ways for a young lady with a banging bod to make up the difference."

"Wait, what?" asked Stacey plucking the check from her heaving chest. "No, no, no. I said this check would cover the rent. And... 'heaving?' Really?"

Stacey slowly backed into the apartment as Frank triumphantly made his way through the door. As it was quickly turning out, being a sarcastic know-it-all mattered little when one was the subject of a steamy sex story—someone whom everyone was very keen to see put through her paces.

"Oh, fuck you," retorted Stacey as Frank eagerly wrapped his hands around her bare waist. "This plot makes no sense. I got paid last night. Why wouldn't I have enough money to—"

Frank hushed Stacey with a finger to her lips. Stacey was finally beginning to understand that things were getting sexy whether she liked it or not. She was finally beginning to imagine what lewd male fantasies she would now be subject to; what lascivious acts she would soon be reduced to performing; in what positions she would willingly be—

"Yes, I get it!" snapped Stacey, slapping the useless check on the kitchen counter. "I'm gonna get railed six ways from Sunday. I'm gonna get banged out all over this apartment. I'm gonna do all the nasty shit that pervy creep tells me to do, and I'm gonna moan like a slut while I'm doing it—exactly like I said I wasn't, because apparently I'm in some really poorly written smut."

Our heroine breathed sharply, having vented—accurately—about how her morning was about to turn out. Frank looked on in bafflement for a moment, then shrugged in agreement with her description of events and started to unbuckle his belt. Stacey threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Fuck it," she said, lifting her tank top to reveal big, perfect tits tipped with cute, round nipples. "It's your lucky day, Frank. God, that mustache... Looks like I have to swallow my words."

"Oh, believe me babe, you're gonna be swallowing a lot more than words in a minute," replied Frank predictably, admiring her impressive bust as he dropped his trousers.

Stacey rolled her eyes and managed an openly fake laugh at the easy retort. She dropped to a kneeling position as Frank approached her, striped boxers visibly tenting up from his growing arousal at the sight of her massive, jutting breasts. She reluctantly pulled his underwear down—and barely dodged the massive cock springing out before her face.

"Suck my dick, bitch," commanded Frank.

Stacey groaned in disgust, but nevertheless wrapped her lips around his cock. Frank moaned in pleasure as he enjoyed her expert fellatio: the exquisite suction of her luscious lips as she bobbed up and down on him; little flits of her delicate tongue over the throbbing head; and slow, decadent licking along the underside of his rock-hard shaft. It was clearly not her first time doing this sort of thing.

The rear view of this scene showcased our heroine's flawless ass squatting rhythmically into that tight thong (allegedly jade-green, but doubtful, given its owner's batting average on other matters). In any case, it was hardly the picture of a woman who, just minutes before, ridiculed the notion that she was a whore.

Stacey's right hand shot up in reply, middle finger extended in contempt—by necessity a nonverbal response, given the massive cock occupying her mouth. Stacey's new daddy, however, took the gesture as a request, as our heroine herself put it, to "get railed six ways from Sunday."

"Daddy? Really?" protested Stacey, finally pausing from her curiously enthusiastic blowjob to object to a wholly fitting description of her new relationship with her apartment manager.

"That's right, I'm your daddy now," confirmed Frank. "Now be a good little slut and crawl over to that couch. I'm gonna give you that nice pussy pounding you've been begging for."

"No, I... wait, I didn't mean," stammered our heroine, attempting vainly to debate the need for a nice pussy pounding, but readers may rest assured: her daddy would not hear of it.

"I know you're all wet for this cock. Come on baby, get on your hands and knees," he demanded. "I want to see you wag that pretty ass of yours as you crawl."

Stacey sighed in frustration, but she obeyed. She spun around and got on all fours, presenting her perfect buttocks to Frank, who gave her a firm spank to send her on her way. As our heroine slinked over to the sofa, her daddy followed, stroking his cock as he ogled her lovely rear end. Suddenly, Frank grabbed Stacey by her lustrous hair and tossed her face-first onto the sofa.

"Shake that fine ass for me," he ordered.

Of course, Stacey had not planned on shaking her fine ass for Frank because she had been too busy gabbing about immaterial plot holes. But like every other erotic act in the story, it was going to happen, with or without any dirty looks cast at the narrator. So shook her ass she did—so well she'd put dancers in a rap video to shame.

"You know what's gonna happen now?" teased Frank, unbuttoning his shirt to a hairy chest.

"What?" asked Stacey as she twerked, pretending not to know the consequences of putting on twerk shows in front of furiously masturbating gentlemen.

Frank silently raised an eyebrow as Stacey looked back at him: although our heroine had thus far conducted herself just as a "good little slut" should, she had for some reason not addressed the apartment manager by his new appropriate title. She rolled her eyes and sighed sharply.

"What, daddy?" she asked, correcting herself with a hint of sass.

Frank bent close over her back, letting his cock brush against the patch of decidedly emerald-green lace covering her pussy. She shuddered at his breath on her neck, the brush of his creepy mustache along her cheek, as he whispered in her ear.

"I'm gonna ride you hard and put you away wet."

Frank felt Stacey's butt quiver against his groin in response to the words. Encouraged, he grabbed her lustrous hair and yanked her head back.

"Say it back, baby," demanded Frank. "Tell daddy what he's gonna do to you."

"You're gonna ride me hard," gulped Stacey, her quavering voice betraying both shame and excitement, "and put me away wet... daddy."

There were no eyerolls or sarcastic remarks from our sexually chastened heroine this time: just a single, trembling breath befitting a Wisconsin farm girl imagining being mounted like a mare.

"I'm from Indiana, you asshole," whispered Stacey as she bit her lip.

Ignoring the irrelevant comment, Frank hooked two fingers over the straps of Stacey's emerald-green thong and pulled it down. Stacey obediently clamped her thighs together to ease its journey down her invitingly upturned ass. A single strand of female excitement oozed from her clean-shaven pussy—proving her readiness for a morning of wild, unprotected sex.

"What ever happened to my Braz— Wait a minute, what?" said Stacey, alarmed. "You do have a condom, right Fr— I mean, daddy?"

Our heroine needed not fret, for the same confounding narrative laws that could transform a decent Minnesota girl into a cheap, horny slut could also guarantee that no amount of filthy pornographic acts she performed would threaten her health—or risk creating little Frank Juniors.

"Don't you worry your little head, baby," reassured Frank as he playfully slapped Stacey's ass. "All that sperm is just gonna end up on your face anyway."

"Oh my God, ugh!" exclaimed Stacey. "Like, both of you: ew, ew, ew! Men and your disgusting sex fantasies... forget I asked—let's just get this over with! We can discuss your icky facial ideas when— Ohhh!"

Stacey stopped mid-sentence, immediately tamed by the huge manhood plunging into her tight, wet pussy. She broke into a full-throated cry of pleasure that was heard by all the residents on the first floor—and most of them on the next. She gripped the cushions as if for dear life as Frank ferociously pounded her from behind. Our heroine was now switched on full pornstar mode: each passionate moan tied perfectly to a manly thrust as she inched her way to climax.

Stacey desperately did not wish to cum. She was ashamed at how easily Frank was inflaming her lust. He held her hips in a viselike grip as he banged her relentlessly, and with each powerful thrust she lost a little more control. Eventually, it was too much: Stacey let out her sluttiest moan yet as she melted into a powerful orgasm. She shuddered as waves of pleasure and humiliation cascaded over her.

And thus, our heroine avoided eviction by having sex: a rather stiff rent indeed. Eventually, the manager, spent by her energetic performance, deemed himself satisfied and declared her debt to be paid in full.

"Oh, thank God," breathed Stacey with relief, not realizing that this was only the midpoint of the story. "I thought it was never gonna— Wait, what the fuck did you just say?"

Readers should not be surprised that before Frank released Stacey from her erotic servitude, he took her into the bedroom to enjoy her body some more. Pulling her up by the hair and planting her on the floor on all fours, he once again gave her a saucy spank as a sendoff. As our heroine crawled her way there, emerald-green thong still tangled around an ankle, she imagined what sexual indignities awaited her: new positions, a new toy—perhaps even a new hole.

"Oh, what the fuck? And no!" declared Stacey firmly but vainly. "I am not getting done in the ass. I don't care what all you perverts like to read—that is the limit!"

Frank, of course, did not absorb anything Stacey was yapping about.

"Wait, wait, wait, not in there!" pleaded Stacey a laughably short minute later, as Frank lowered her, reverse cowgirl-style, onto his rock-hard cock as he lay on her bed. "Please daddy, I'm still a backdoor virgin!"

Stacey's words became untrue as soon as they left her mouth, as the head of Frank's manhood disappeared into her tight anus. It was at this moment, as her daddy's cock slid its way up her butt, that our heroine discovered for the first time that she was blessed with an incredibly sensitive erogenous zone deep in her ass.

"Okay, that's fucking stupid," grumbled Stacey, but her strained speech and labored breathing betrayed secret enjoyment.

She leaned back on her hands, well-toned thighs splayed whorishly apart, and began to pump up and down on Frank's massive cock. Those "all-natural double dees" Stacey was so proud of bobbed obscenely as she fucked herself. She moaned loudly with pleasure, no longer trying to deny her identity as an anal slut. His guiding hands were on her hips, but she rode the thick pole of her own accord.

"You bouncing like that check you tried to slip me?" teased Frank.

"I told you, the check wasn't gonna—" Stacey began to protest yet again, but quickly gave up. "Oh, fuck it. Yes, daddy..."

"Yeah, that's right. Say it: say your check bounced, so you're bouncing like a whore!" demanded Frank, thrusting upward, again and again, into Stacey's ass.

"My check bounced, so I'm bouncing like a whore!" moaned Stacey, building up to another climax (more quickly than any decent woman would, one might note).

"What's my name, bitch? Louder! Say it like you mean it!" he growled.

"My check bounced, so I'm bouncing like a fucking whore, daddy!" she screamed as he filled her up to the hilt, setting off a second orgasm.

The resulting screams of pleasure were so loud they reverberated through the whole apartment building. Having duly informed the neighbors of the state of her finances, our heroine collapsed limply back onto Frank's sweaty chest, allowing him to fondle her hefty tits from beneath.

"That's a good little girl," complimented Frank with a satisfied groan.

Frank's cock, readers well know, was still buried up Stacey's butt: a rather indecent reminder to the comely blonde that she by no means was done "making the rent." She whimpered as he abruptly pulled out of her ass and rolled her off his chest. Stacey squealed as he yanked her up by the hair.

"God, I've cum twice already," she complained as Frank put her again on her hands and knees. "Can this guy blow his load already?"

Ignoring her query, Frank reached over to her nightstand and opened the top drawer, pulling out an oversized pink dildo. Our bad little heroine pretended not to know where the phallic sex toy came from, even though it had obviously been placed at her bedside for convenient access during nightly naughty times.

"That's not mine!" insisted Stacy, as if anyone cared. "I don't even use vibrators, so why would there be one in my drawer? And how did Frank even know to find it there? Is this fucking story ever gonna start making sense?"

It did not seem likely, but that apparently bothered no one other than Stacey, since all anyone else wanted was to see a busty naked girl put on a nice, dirty sex show. If that required readers to accept dildos coming out of nowhere and plot holes the size of an Iowa blonde's tits, then so be it. Besides, our heroine was about to get a practical lesson in ATM, so she would not be talking much for a while.

"Indiana. I'm from— Um, what? I'm not putting that back in my mouth!" protested Stacey, as Frank brandished his still-hard cock before her face. "Ugh, fucking men!"

"There's only one way this ends," warned Frank, "and that's with a hot wad of cum on your face. But if you want to get your prize, you're gonna earn it sucking and fucking like a pornstar, baby. It's nothing different from what you've been doing this whole time."

Having only just given up her anal virginity, our heroine could perhaps be forgiven for not wanting immediately to repeat a blowjob, but she sucked dick with spirit (like her rent depended on it, one could even say). But let us not forget the big pink dildo still in Frank's hand.

"Oh God, not that fucking vibrator again. What are you gonna do with that?" asked Stacey, pulling her mouth from Frank's cock as he reached over her back. "You're not gonna— Oh, we're putting it in the ass... um, okay— Ah, gentle, please! Oh daddy, that's so deep... mmm... wait, don't turn it on just— Ohhh!"

The device came on with a whirring noise. Stacey's limbs went wobbly with pleasure. He reached over to grope her bare buttocks and periodically spank it. Each time he did, the toy burrowed deeper and deeper into her ass, making her moan shamelessly like the whore she was. She opened her mouth to lob another pert remark at the narrator, but Frank promptly plugged it with his hard cock before she could speak. Remembering her duties, she obediently resumed fellatio, and her now-muffled cries of desire gave his cock its own satisfying vibration.

As readers should expect, our randy heroine was soon ready for another climax. Frank by now was actively deepthroating her mouth, but being the kind of woman that she was, Stacey took the face-fucking without the slightest trace of a gag reflex. He grasped the blonde by her silky hair in one hand while he spanked her with the other, each slap on her butt harder than the one before, until one final smack sent her over the edge. She squealed with delight into his cock as she came for the third time, her entire body shaking in pure, erotic bliss.

When Frank withdrew his manhood from her mouth, Stacey dropped to her elbows, gasping for air. Glistening threads extended from her wet pussy onto the maroon covers. She hoped in vain she had finally reached the end. For one, her pink dildo remained firmly lodged in her tight ass, happily buzzing away: still quaking in the echoes of her orgasm, she reached behind to pull it out, but Frank swatted her hand away. For another, his seemingly unstoppable dick loomed over her head, showing no signs of softening in the slightest.