"Oh, shit," Crystal Norris muttered. She knew damned well that it was the landlord who had just knocked on her apartment door.
And she knew what he wanted, too. The girl had sneaked out early to get the morning newspaper and now she was back in bed, scanning the classified section. She was looking for another apartment but first she had to find a job, since she had no money at all to pay the rent or even make a deposit.
She couldn't have paid the rent in this dump, either – if she hadn't came to an arrangement with the landlord.
And she knew he had come to collect.
Al Gunderson, the landlord – or slumlord, as Crystal thought of him – stopped by every single day. And it seemed to the girl that, although no dollars were involved, she was paying a very steep rent, indeed.
It was a good thing she liked sucking cocks. Otherwise, her tenancy would have been unbearable.
Crystal was a very lovely young lady, eighteen years old, with honey-blonde hair and big, bouncy tits and the sort of ass that made men – or lesbians – drool.
She was a small-town girl who had recently moved to the city and hadn't found employment yet. All of her savings were gone, and she was getting desperate.
She hated the studio apartment she was in, a shabby place with peeling wallpaper and bare water pipes along the ceiling and a stained sink that leaked and dripped onto a rotten carpet.
Still, it was a roof over her head.
And her head was paying for it, too.
She held her breath, keeping quiet, hoping that Gunderson would think she had gone out.
It wasn't that she was cheap or dishonest or a deadbeat. Crystal didn't really mind paying the rent the way she had been doing, ever since she had spent her last few bucks.
But it was getting excessive.
Gunderson had her over a barrel and he expected a blow-job every morning. And it seemed to Crystal – although, being an innocent small-town girl, she couldn't be sure – that she ought to have at least a two-bedroom place, or even a penthouse, in return for swallowing a load of cum every morning.
Then, too, Gunderson was not an attractive man.
His prick was okay, though. It was big and tasty, and he never took very long to get his rocks off. So if she closed her eyes, or kept her gaze on his balls, while she made believe he was a movie star, it wasn't so bad.
If only he were a bit more polite and gentlemanly about it, she thought. But, being a slumlord, Gunderson knew nothing of civility. He demonstrated that now.
He rapped more demandingly on the door. "C'mon, you deadbeat bitch! I know you're in there!"
She sighed and saw no way out of it. "Come on in, Al," she called. The door flew open and Gunderson stepped in, an evil grin on his ugly face.
He was a big brawny fellow, wearing his customary outfit of baggy tweed trousers – his shooting britches, Crystal wryly called them – and a stained undershirt under the suspenders that held the pants up.
The top of his head was bald and he had a fringe of hair, like a slipped halo, circling the dome just above his jutting ears. His eyebrows were bushy, as if to compensate for his slick skull, and he had bristles of hair sticking from his nostrils.
Still, it could have been worse.
Suppose she had had to fuck him in the missionary position, face to face?
Even when she was down on his prick, the garlic on his breath was overwhelming. Crystal, a delicate young lady, would never, ever have kissed him on the lips.
It was bad enough to kiss his cock.
Gunderson strode up to the bed, where she was sitting cross-legged, the newspaper spread out on her lap like a paper chastity belt.
"Rent time, cock-sucker," he hissed, in his usual rude bedside manner.
Crystal looked resigned. She really had no choice – and she had the solace of pretense, fantasizing about someone else as she gulped away on the creep's cock.
"Yeah – okay," she said softly.
He began to open his pants as he stood beside the bed, his loins thrust out. His baggy trousers had a button fly and he undid them one by one, leering down as if he thought that he was teasing Crystal by the delay – as if the girl was eager to suck him off.
Crystal twisted around to face him, still sitting in the cross-legged position, which was as comfortable as any when the cock-sucking lacked enthusiasm.
She stared straight ahead at his groin, which was a preferable sight to his ugly face. It was a shame that his prick wasn't attached to a nicer guy, she thought, wondering whimsically if cocks could be transplanted.
But that was a moot point.
Gunderson was much too mean to be an organ donor and would take his cock to the grave.
His fly opened wide and his baggy trousers hung suspended by the elastic straps. He wore boxer shorts with polka dots and arrows as a design. Reaching into the opening, he dragged his cock and balls out.
He had a thick, blunt cock, soft of stubby but not at all unsightly or malformed – quite attractive, really, with the big, bulging knob and heavily veined stalk. The cock-head was a dusty beige hue, the cock-shaft a pale tan.
His prick was only semi-stiff and he pulled his hand up and down a few times, panting as he stroked, making it firmer.
Crystal waited in resigned patience, her lips slightly parted, her warm breath wafting onto his prick as she exhaled and the gamy aroma of his prick filling her nostrils as she breathed in.
"Ought to charge you double," he grunted.
"Huh?" she asked.
"Room and board – all the jizz I been feedin' you." He chuckled, thinking that hilarious. "Meat ain't cheap these days, you know."
His laugh was a sort of bray, slobber spraying from his curled-back lips like a blowing horse.
He pumped away, cranking his cock up slowly. It got harder and thicker and began to angle up. He gazed down at his cock, as if he had to look in order to decide if it was stiff enough to be sucked.
His prick wasn't rock-hard yet, sort of rubbery, but he judged it was tense enough. He slid his hand back and cupped his swollen balls, shoving his fucker into her face with a lurch of his hips.
Crystal didn't hesitate.
She figured that she might as well get it over with. And, too, the actual cock-sucking wasn't unpleasant – as long as the coarse man kept his mouth shut while he was stuffing hers.
Her honey-blonde head ducked forward and she slipped his bulging cock-head into her mouth.
When Crystal gave head through choice, she liked to linger over the preliminaries, licking for a while on a guy's balls before she mouthed his prick. But with Gunderson, she started right in sucking his prick.
She breathed in and panted out.
His fat cock-knob lay on her tongue, flaring and swelling, the rubbery texture turning firmer, then getting hard. Her lips collared his fat cock just below the blunt cock-head, peeling outward as she sucked.
Gunderson held her pretty face between his rough palms and began to hump, fucking deeper into her maw. She switched her tongue back and forth against the underside of his cock-knob and her lips pulled steadily.
"Yeah! Suck, baby – suck my cock!" he grunted.
His ass corkscrewed as he face-fucked in and out, stabbing back into her throat. His prickknob clogged her gullet and she gagged. He moved his hand off his hairy balls, and they swung up and slapped her under the chin.
"Yuh love it, don't yuh, cock-sucker?" he rasped, no doubt being romantic.
"Umpghhh!" she muttered around his prick. "Milk my meat, you slime-drinkin' slut!" His cock-head fucked into her throat. She sucked on the cock-stalk as he drew back, her lips rubbing up and down, working with the steady friction that would bring him off quickly.
Her golden head lunged up and down, meeting him as he fed the cock-meat in. Her blonde tresses fell in a soft curtain over his balls as he buried his bone.
Pre-cum began to dribble onto her tongue. She let the cock-lube trickle down her throat, enjoying the taste and the texture despite the fact that it was a loathsome lout who was serving it to her.
His cock hissed through the oval collar of her lovely lips skimmed over her flashing tongue and sank back into her gullet, tilting her head back. She arched, her plump tits thrusting up.
Gunderson shifted his feet wider apart. Holding her face steady between his callused palms, he slogged his fucker in faster and harder. He was pumping on the cum-strokes and she was sucking toward a creamy conclusion.
He always came abruptly and without much warning.
Today was no exception.
At one moment her mouth was full of cockmeat, and the next it was suddenly full of cum.
"Arghhhh!" he grunted.
Crystal gulped his cum down and he fed her more, plowing his prick in through his own slime. He had plenty of the thick stuff and he was spraying her mouth abundantly. Cum sloshed in her checks and dribbled through her teeth. Her lapper had a creamy coating.
He fucked in deeply and spilled some jism straight down her gullet. Crystal made a gargling sound as she gulped his cock-cream down. Her head moved up and down and he kept pumping in and squirting more cum.
A jizz-jet bit the roof of her mouth, and yet another whitewashed her gorge. She was swallowing most of the cum, but some was overflowing, spilling from her lips and running down her chin.
He stopped shooting as abruptly as he had begun.
One instant his cum was spurting out and the next his balls were drained. His cock-head stopped flaring and his cock-shaft stopped throbbing.
Crystal kept sucking, figuring that there was no point in leaving a job unfinished, but he had stopped humping now and his prick was already turning rubbery again. The prick-knob rolled limply over her lapper.
She ducked down, taking his cock balls-deep into her mouth, then pulled back up, sucking the spunk from his stalk, mopping up the dregs to keep it neat.
Gunderson grunted and stepped back. His prick came snaking from her lips and dropped down instantly, as limp as a noodle, dripping with her saliva.
Crystal tossed her head back and let the final mouthful of jism spill on down her throat. It was a pleasant sensation, having a bellyful of jizz, in spite of the balls that had delivered it.
She looked up at the landlord with an uncertain sort of smile on her cum-smeared mouth.
He could have at least said thanks.
But he was leering at her most ungallantly.
"I'll be back tomorrow morning, scum bucket," he rasped.
He simply didn't know the right things to say to girls, not to mention destitute tenants.
Then, tucking his spent cock back into his baggy pants, he left.
Crystal shrugged and went back, to reading the newspaper.
Crystal found two ads that sounded promising.
One was for a room in a private house, a sort of live-in arrangement offered by a divorcee who would take a very reasonable rent in exchange for sharing in the housework. It seemed just what Crystal was looking for – and no amount of housework could be more irritating than having to give blow-jobs to Al Gunderson.
But first she had to find a job, and the second ad was for a girl to work in a book store, which was just the sort of wholesome employment that would suit the innocent, small-town girl to a tee, especially when she wrote home to tell her narrow-minded parents what she was doing in the city where, as they knew, the ways were wicked.
She had never written them about blowing Al Gunderson, of course, although the thought had occurred to her and made her feel devilish.
She decided that logistics decreed that she apply for the job first and, if she got it, arrange to rent the room. She was looking forward eagerly to getting out of this seedy, shabby, sordid living arrangement.
She wondered if Al Gunderson would expect a blow-job in lieu of notice.
The thought made her giggle.
Maybe she would, just for old times' sake.
She sorted through her meager supply of clothing and chose a demure sort of dress that seemed appropriate, showing off her splendid body attractively and enticingly, but in a modest and innocent fashion.
Before she got droned, however – as a sort of afterthought – she lay back down on the bed to give her cunt a quick and efficient hand-job.
Although Crystal disliked the circumstances and the necessity of doing it, she had to admit that it usually left her feeling horny after she'd sucked Al's cock and drank his cum-load.
If he'd been a nicer guy – not necessarily more handsome, just more pleasant – and less demanding and crude, Crystal would probably have sucked him off of her own free will, and enjoyed it a lot more.
But Gunderson was Gunderson, and such things were not meant to be.
Crystal spread her shapely thighs and arched her slender back and began to rub her clit. She didn't bother with any foreplay or preliminary caresses, ignoring her stiff nipples and not even finger-fucking her hot cunt-hole.
This was simply an efficiency frigging, to take the heat and the pressure off – and preventive, as well, to keep her from creaming in her panties, which would have been terribly embarrassing during a job interview.
Undulating her ass and hips and tasting the lingering flavor of Gunderson's jizz on her tongue, she massaged her stiff clit with a practiced hand and had herself surging to a foaming finale in a few moments.
She finished juicing, then licked her fingers – wondering, as always, why cunt-cum tasted so tantalizing.
Crystal knew damned well that she wasn't a dyke, so it puzzled the innocent, small-town girl as to why she so often had fantasies about eating pussy.
That was one of the mysteries that she would soon learn in the city, with its wicked ways.
Feeling more relaxed with her pussy melted by hand, Crystal got dressed and went out, seeking a new life…
Al Gunderson finished collecting the rent from the rest of the tenants – all of whom paid in cash instead of head – and went back to his own apartment, which was as sordid and shabby as the ones he rented.
Hilda Gunderson was still in bed, which was not strange, because she was usually in bed, eating chocolates or bananas, or both.
Hilda was naked, which was also usual. She had a pretty face, heavily painted, her lips a scarlet slash and her eyes darkened with mascara. Her flame-red hair tumbled over the pillow like red ink.
She had the sort of figure that a gentleman would have termed hourglass shaped, and a crude fellow such as Al thought of as being the brick shit-house sort. Her tits were huge, her hips wide, her ass big. Her cunt-mound was like a flaming bush, red curls spreading up from her vee like tongues of flame licking her belly.
When Al came in, she held out her hand and rubbed her thumb and fingers together.
Al obediently gave her all the rent money, which she counted twice. Then she scowled ferociously.
"It's short, asshole!" she snapped.
Al looked guilty.
"Aarr… that blonde girl in Four-B didn't have it today," he mumbled, his eyes moving shiftily.
"You gotta kick that bleached hussy out, you shit-head," Hilda snarled. Then a look of suspicion crept into her gaudily painted face. "Or are you fucking her for the rent?"
"Oh, no, darling," he protested – which was true, as well, as far as it went.