The Tenant

Working as a landlord, you're never happy when the phone rings. People don't call just to say everything is working great, or that they're going to be early with the rent money. When the phone rings, it is almost certainly bad news. And when Zulema calls, you better clear the rest of your day.

Zulema is a tallish attractive Colombian-born woman in her mid to late 30s. She and her husband Greg and young toddler son live in one of my more high-end units. It is a really nice place in a great neighborhood, but for whatever reason it always seems to require a disproportionate amount of attention. Not a week goes by without me stopping by to fix something.

At first I didn't mind all that much. Zulema is quite beautiful and charming, and dresses in a way that really gets me going--conservative but just a hint of sexy. And her accent, though subtle, is irresistible. However, she is extremely demanding and bossy as a tenant, and will accept nothing short of perfection in her house. It is no wonder why Greg spends so much time away from home. If I think her demands are bad, he must get it so much worse.

It was a gorgeous Friday afternoon in late summer. I had wrapped up what I thought was the last thing on my list for the day, and was thinking of knocking off a bit early to get a drink with my brother, when suddenly my phone rang. Of course it was Zulema.

"Hello?" I said, as if I didn't know exactly who it was.

"Hey, it's Zulema," she said. "How are you?"

"Great. What's going on?"

"Sorry to call again, but one of those detectors in the kitchen is beeping and I can't shut it off. I'm worried there may be a gas leak or something."

"Okay, well don't worry. I'm not that far from you now. I can come check it out in about 10 minutes."

"I appreciate it. Thank you."

I hung up and sighed. I was fairly certain it was an innocuous low-battery beep and not an actual alarm, but it was worth checking out anyway. I grabbed a few tools I anticipated I might need and made my way to Zulema's house. Checking my appearance in the rear-view mirror, I grabbed my bag, made my way to the door and rang the bell.

"Hola!"

Zulema flung open the door, uncharacteristically cheery. Her appearance was more casual than I was used to, with her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her attire that afternoon was charcoal gray yoga pants and a tight yellow t-shirt, with a deep v-neck revealing just the right amount of cleavage. I could tell right away that she was not wearing a bra, and I tried not to stare too obviously at the faint outline of nipple that was noticeable through the fabric of her shirt.

"Come on in. Take off your shoes there please," she said, as if I didn't already know the drill.

I slipped off my shoes and followed her down the hall, watching her cute bare feet delicately land on the tile floor. Her hips swayed from side to side in an almost exaggerated manner, as if she was a model on the catwalk, or trying deliberately to get me to notice her butt. She didn't have to try. Her ample but tight rear end was perfectly highlighted by those pants, and I was free for a moment to stare at that ass and those thighs, knowing she did not have eyes in the back of her head.

We entered the kitchen. I noticed a half-full glass of wine on the counter next to a half-empty bottle of cabernet. Her house, usually in perfect order, was a bit more cluttered than I'd come to expect. There were several dishes in the sink. An empty pizza box was perched above the trash can.

"The beeping is coming from this guy here," Zulema said, reaching up toward a round box on the ceiling in the kitchen. When she lifted her arm, her t-shirt rose a bit as well, revealing her tiny waist and much of her flat caramel brown abdomen and perfect little belly button. This woman was at least five years my senior, and gave birth to a child less than two years ago, but still somehow looked like a fitness model.

"As long as the beeping isn't constant, it's just a warning. That blinking light there indicates a low battery. I need your ladder and a 9-volt battery if you have one."

Zulema looked through a drawer in the kitchen island, taking a sip of her wine before finding a new 2-pack of 9-volt batteries. She left for a minute, then came back with a 4-foot ladder I knew she had in the house from my previous visit. I climbed up to the top step and began to dismantle the carbon detector.

"Do you need me to hold you?" she asked, grabbing on to both of my legs before I could respond. Her face was inches from my crotch. I felt a little movement between my legs as I imagined her unzipping my jeans. I glanced down for some quick appreciation of her cleavage from above, and was not disappointed.

"I'm sorry to have you come over for this. I would ask Greg to look at it, but we're kind of in a separation right now. He's pretty worthless at this stuff anyway."

"Oh wow, sorry to hear that."

"No, it's okay. Frankly I am happier without him right now. But I do get a little lonely on days when he has Junior with him."

The news about the separation was a bit surprising, but I couldn't say I was shocked. Based on my limited observation, she didn't treat him all that well. She wore the pants in this house. And no matter how great they made her ass look, it just wasn't going to work anymore if she stopped putting out for poor ol' Greg. He probably had to beg for sex, and even when she caved in it was probably quick, pragmatic missionary sex that neither of them truly enjoyed. I wondered if this lady has even given him head since their marriage. My money would be on "once, on his birthday, and not even to completion."

"Well okay that takes care of that," I said, stepping down from the ladder. "What else do you need?"

"While you are here, can you please look at the upstairs shower? It does not get very hot anymore."

This was classic Zulema, calling me over for one quick repair that would eventually lead to a dozen tasks and at least half a day of work. Of course it was a bit more understandable in the context of what I just learned about her personal life, but I didn't want to spend any more time there than I had to. I followed Zulema up the stairs, paying close attention to the shape of her legs and butt. She stepped into the master bathroom and turned on the water in the large glass shower.

"Even on the hottest setting it is just barely warm," she said. "And it used to work so well. Using this shower was my favorite part of the day."

"Okay let me see what I can do."

"I swear if you fix this I will do anything."

This offer certainly put some colorful ideas in my head. Not being sure how literal she meant it, I decided not to acknowledge her comment, and instead stepped into a literal cold shower to cool off.

"Hmmm yeah this water is warm but definitely not hot. Let me take apart the valve. Sometimes they have a built-in mechanism from preventing it from going to hot. I might have to just re-align it."

I'm not sure if what I said made any sense, nor if it was correct in any technical kind of way. I am not a plumber but I can usually fake my way through most repairs on dumb luck, and I have actually successfully taken these things apart and gotten them to go hotter before. I shut off the water and got to work.

"I'm sorry, can I get you a beer or water or anything?" Zulema offered.

"I wouldn't say no to a glass of that cabernet," I said, hoping the request made me seem as sophisticated as I had hoped.

"Sure no problem."

I took the handle off the shower valve and found a little plastic cartridge inside. I repositioned it so that it was able to turn an extra few degrees counterclockwise and then put it all back together. A simple enough job, but that should do it. I had the water running fully hot again when Zulema came back with two glasses of wine.

"Did you fix it? My god, I could kiss you."

"Salud," I said, taking a huge gulp from the glass.

"This is honestly so amazing. Thank you."

Zulema emptied the rest of her glass down her throat, then produced a small piece of paper out of nowhere.

"This is just a little list of some other things I've noticed around the house," she said. "If you'll excuse me, I am going to take a quick shower now, because I really missed having it working. And if you don't mind staying and having a look at these things I would really appreciate it. I really do owe you one."

One what? I wondered to myself. Suddenly up to my neck in work, I begrudgingly took the list and read it while walking away to give her some privacy. The list was pretty long and vague-full of requests like "dishwasher loud" and "dryer hot but too hot?" Even just looking at all of these things was going to take another hour at least.

Back downstairs in the kitchen, I poured myself another half glass of wine and meandered around the house, only partially paying attention to Zulema's maintenance requests. I could hear the shower running upstairs and tried to imagine how sexy she looked in there, hot and wet and nude and soapy. On a whim, I decided to walk back up the stairs to inspect the "bedroom vent off?" request.

I was standing in the master bedroom when Zulema came out of the attached "en suite" bathroom in a short black robe loosely tied around her waist. It was the most skin I had ever seen her show, with the scandalous length of the robe showing off the entire length of her sexy brown legs. Up top, the robe was so loose that it barely covered her breasts. From a different angle I may have been able to see a nipple. Her jet black hair was dripping. My jaw dropped. I could not hide how turned on I was by this beautiful woman.

"So that vent above the bed doesn't really seem to work when we have the a/c on," she said.

"Oh," I could barely speak.

"Please, go turn on the air. You will see what I mean."

I went out into the hall and down the stairs to where the thermostat was, setting the temperature down to 68 degrees to activate the air conditioning. Was she coming on to me or not? I honestly couldn't tell. Maybe she has had just enough wine today, and is just the right combination of lonely and horny. It might be my lucky day. Quickly I ascended back up to the master bedroom to see the result.

Zulema was lying down in the center of the bed, her bathrobe now completely open revealing her perfect nude body. My eyes followed the path from her feet up those slender and smooth brown legs and onward to the trimmed but still bushy black delta of her pubic region. They continued up to that washboard belly and then on up to her big round breasts and chocolate nipples. Her face was expressionless but she looked right at me. I was stunned.

"Isn't it hot in here?" she asked.

"Very, very hot," was all I could think to say.

"Well what are you going to do about it?"

I hesitated before a moment before answering, "I think I may have to get out of these clothes."

"I like that idea," she smiled. "Then what?"

"Then I think I'll join you in that bed."

"Good. Listen, I know I can be pretty bossy sometimes, but right now you are the boss. I will do anything you say. You can do whatever you want to me."

Well okay, here we go! I suppose the possibilities are endless for some people when presented this scenario, but I've never been all that "dominant" sexually, and don't have very many kinks so to speak. But I did want to have sex with this woman. I wanted her to enjoy it as well. If I had to guess I would say it had been a very long time since she was righteously fucked. Hopefully I would get her off, then I would come somewhere on her or in her, then I would go about my day.

"Spread your legs," I demanded while beginning to undress myself.

"Yes, master," she said, slowly opening her legs and exposing herself to me.

"Touch yourself."

Zulema closed her eyes and began rubbing her clit. I removed my pants and boxer briefs and stood before her totally naked, my dick at full salute in a pretty impressive erection. She would not be disappointed when she opened her eyes. Of this I was sure.

I continued to observe her masturbation technique as she got more and more into it, putting a finger inside her now-wet pussy, biting her lip and tilting her head back in pleasure. Her hips lifted off the bed a bit, gyrating to the rhythm of her self-love.

After a few minutes of voyeurism, I crawled onto the foot of the bed and spread her legs wider apart, then buried my face in between them. I gave her pussy a single lick, and she looked down at me and smiled, still rubbing her clit with her right hand. She smelled and tasted like somewhat like potpourri, not at all unpleasant to my senses. I went back in for another taste, slowly licking in and around her pussy, which was now soaking wet. Her ecstatic moans became louder and louder indicating her approval.

"Fuck that feels so good," she said, now grabbing and squeezing her own breasts.

I wiped some juices off my chin and slightly altered my position, now gently licking and sucking on her clit while fucking her with my ring and middle fingers.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Just like that!"

I looked up to see her pinching and twisting her nipples. The pitch of her moaning got higher and the rhythm more staccato.

"You're going to make me come."

She screamed as the floodgates opened, and I continued to lick, lapping up the warm flow of liquid honey she produced in abundance. My face and hands were soaked with her ejaculate. Wanting her to taste her own juices, I laid next to her on the bed and began kissing her. She received me well. The kissing intensified, her tongue wrestling with mine as I began fondling her tits.

"I can't believe you made me come like that," she said. "What do you want me to do now?"

Before I could respond, she took my hand and began sucking on the two fingers I had inside her pussy, slowly moving them in and out of her mouth.

"Get down on your knees, on the floor," I said.

"Yes, master."

She obediently moved to the ground and assumed the position. I stood in front of her with my huge erect dick, already dripping with pre-cum, pointed right at her face. I was so hard that it hurt.

"Wow that is pretty big."

"Kiss it."

She gave the tip of my penis a peck, transferring the bit of pre-cum to her lips, then looked up at me for her next command.

"When was the last time you sucked anybody's dick?" I genuinely wanted to know.

"Oh, probably a couple of...maybe 4 or 5 months ago."

"Did you let him finish in your mouth?"

"No, I never do that."

This confirmed to me that she wasn't taking care of her man. No wonder their marriage was falling apart. Men will take all kinds of abuse from a woman this hot. We will let ourselves be bossed around verbally or financially. Why? Because at the end of the day we like how your pussy feels and love the way our dick looks in your mouth. If none of this is happening, then there is nothing to hold the bond together.

"Start sucking," I demanded.

Zulema took the tip of my cock in her mouth and started literally sucking on it, and sort of swirling her tongue around it. It felt nice, of course, but it wasn't really what a blowjob is supposed to be. It is quite possible this woman was never coached on how to give good head. She had men falling all over her no matter what she did, so why would she need to suck a dick, or care how well she was doing it?

"Deeper. Like this," I said, grabbing the back of her head and pushing a few inches farther down my dick, then pulling back.

"It's too big," she protested, pretending to gag. "I can't fit that in all the way."

"I want you to try your best."

She put me back in her mouth, a little bit deeper this time, and began sliding up and down the shaft in a more proper fashion.

"That's a little better," I said.

Zulema, encouraged by my positive reinforcement, started getting more into it, going a little deeper and faster as my dick became lubed with her saliva. She was altering speeds and even gently squeezing my balls, sometimes looking up at me with those beautiful brown eyes. The importance of eye contact can not be overstated in a blowjob.

"I actually like this," she said, pausing to take a breath, but continuing to stroke me with her hands. "I never liked it before."

"Why don't you see if you like licking my balls as well?"

"Okay!" she immediately went in on my sack, continuing to jerk my dick with her right hand, licking one ball then the other for a few moments, giving each plenty of attention.

I wanted her to continue sucking me off, now that she seemed to have a newfound appreciation of performing fellatio. It would have been a cherry on top to fill her mouth with cum and make her swallow. However, I knew I needed to feel the inner walls of her pussy first. She deserved a good fucking, and I was at my biggest and hardest right at that moment.

"Get back on the bed," I said.

She eagerly got up and laid down on the bed again, smiling in anticipation of the treat she knew was coming. I touched the surface of her pussy to make sure it was still nice and wet, then spread her legs wide apart.

"Are you going to fuck me with that big dick now?"

I moved into position to enter her, and she instantly grabbed a hold of my dick and stuffed it inside her pussy. Her lips were snug around my huge rod, but it easily slid in due to the magnitude of moisture still happening in that area.

"Oooh," she moaned. "Ow."

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes, but don't stop. Just go slow for now."

I slowly forced my cock several inches deep inside her pussy, then slowly pulled back. Then back in again and again, slightly deeper each time, but maintaining a slow pace to save her from pain.

"How does this feel?" I asked.

"Good," she replied. "Go ahead and fuck me now, as hard as you want."

I increased the force of my thrust a bit, going deeper and deeper. Her sugar walls easily accepted my girth, but still kept a firm grip around me. The sensation was incredible, though I knew I was not in danger of climaxing too soon. I had more work to do first.

Altering my angle of entry ever so slightly in order to increase friction, I began to seriously pound her, going as hard and deep as I thought she would allow. I was fucking her with everything I had.

"Harder!" she begged.

I kept hammering her with my dick, but now I was pausing just a bit at the deepest point of my thrust before pulling back again. This seemed to do the trick.

"Yes!" she screamed. "I'm going to come again!"

Her sustained screaming and body language confirmed she had climaxed again, so I pulled out and brought my dick up near her face and started rubbing it against her pursed lips. Zulema stuck out her tongue as if eager for another taste of her own secretions.

"Mmmm I was hoping you would let me suck it some more," she said.

I grabbed a fistful of hair close to the back of her head, and guided her mouth toward my throbbing penis. She enthusiastically gave her mouth to me, but this time with me in control. Still holding a fistful of her hair, I pushed her head toward me as I thrust my pelvis, shoving my dick pretty deep down her throat. I was giving her mouth a good fucking, though still keeping it somewhat gentle, not wanting to physically hurt her.

Feeling myself getting dangerously close the the finish line, I pulled out and tried to wind it back a bit. Though it would have been a great opportunity to come all over her face, something told me I needed to keep fucking her.

"Roll over," I said.

Zulema immediately obeyed my command and rolled over onto her stomach, giving me the first opportunity to fully appreciate her glorious behind. I reached out to grab it with both hands, then gave it a light smack with my right.

"Oooh I like that," she said. "Smack my ass again. Harder."