index


Message-ID: <63858asstr$1485677402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Calliope <andrew_morton@mac.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
User-Agent: Unison/2.1.10
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 28 Jan 2017 19:51:06 UTC
Bytes: 18837
Subject: {ASSM} Fifteenth Of The Month (MF)
Lines: 302
Date: Sun, 29 Jan 2017 03:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

There are things about what follows that I'm not entirely proud of. 
There are things, as well, that I never want my wife to find out about. 
So let's keep this hush-hush, shall we? I'll tell you a bit about 
myself, so you'll understand what's going on, but not enough for anyone 
who reads this to tell who I am. My name is Mike. I'm fifty-three years 
old and married to Beth for the last twenty-seven years. Until five 
years ago I was an accountant employed by a long-standing local 
business. I'd been with them since I graduated from university and rose 
to quite a senior position, but five years ago, in the midst of the 
fallout of the financial crash, they had to lay people off. I was one 
of them. They were good employers and gave me a decent severance 
package. Between that and and inheritance when my Dad died I had enough 
to put down a deposit on a buy-to-let mortgage on a small flat. I also 
set myself up as a self-employed accountant doing short-term contracts 
for local businesses. The upshot of that, and the rent coming in from 
the flat, was that I could get another buy-to-let mortgage and another 
flat. Now, five years on, I have four flats that I rent out - mostly to 
students and those who had recently graduated or moved out of their 
family home.

Matthew - Matt - moved into one of my flats three years ago. He was 
from Devon. A tall, good-looking young man, slim-built with brown eyes 
and a mop of dark, curly hair, he had just graduated from our local 
university and was working at the local branch of an electrical goods 
chain. He was a good-natured, honest young man and I liked him. He paid 
his rent on time and was invariably polite. He reminded me of my son, 
who was also at this early stage of setting out on his own and moving 
out of the family home. Six months after he took up the flat his 
girlfriend, Megan, moved up from Devon and moved in with him. She was a 
beautiful woman with long, dark brown hair and cornflower blue eyes, 
high cheekbones and a stunning complexion. Six months after she moved 
in with him he popped the question and she said yes.

So let's move things a bit more up to date. It was the fifteenth of 
June. I know that because the fifteenth of the month is rent day and I 
make my rounds of the flats making my collections. I always like to 
look the part of a property owner when I do that. So after my shower I 
got dressed in my smart suit. I stood in front of the mirror in our 
bedroom.

"I think I've put on some weight," I said to Beth, who was still in bed.

"No more than most men your age," she replied.

"I suppose a little middle-age spread is to be expected. Still, I like 
to think I keep myself reasonably trim."

"Whatever you say."

And that was typical Beth. I looked myself up and down in the mirror. I 
thought I looked OK. My hair is grey now, but it's still thick. I have 
a few wrinkles, but I think I've kept my looks pretty well. I watch 
what I eat and I don't think I'm particularly overweight. My steel-grey 
eyes have attracted their share of attention over the years. But still, 
your wife is always your most honest critic, right?

So off I went to collect the rents. It wasn't exactly an onerous job - 
drive around the town. Knock on a few doors. Ususally I sat for a while 
with my tenants and we chatted amiably about how things were going with 
them. There would be a couple of cups of tea on the round and maybe the 
odd bit of cake. They would hand over a cheque or a roll of cash and I 
would thank them for it. It's like most transactions of this kind. 
There are pleasantries, perhaps, that you exchange with the girl at the 
checkout in a shop or with the people who fix your car when you pay 
their bill. Maybe that's why I left Matt and his fianceé until last on 
my tour. I wasn't sure things would be quite so pleasant there. For 
some months things seemed to have been going wrong there. Matt wasn't 
quite the young man he had been, somehow. To this day I don't really 
know what had happened. I think it might have been drink or drugs. 
Possibly gambling. I'm not sure. There were a couple of months when 
they were late with the rent and I had to come back a few days later. I 
didn't really mind that, but I felt I had to be stern with them - at 
least as far as I can be stern - so that they understood that they had 
responsibilities to me. Sure Beth and I were comfortably off, but we 
too had bills to pay.

I rang the doorbell of Matt and Megan's flat. Matt answered. He looked 
drawn and tired. he was dressed in a faded grey t-shirt and jeans. He 
hadn't shaved. His eyes lacked the sparkle I remembered from when he 
had moved in.

"Mike. Rent day. Of course. Come in," he said and opened the door wide. 
I walked through the short corridor that led to the living room. They 
were keeping the place clean, I noted with approval as Matt gestured 
toward the settee. I sat down. A moment or so later Megan came out of 
the bedroom. She was wearing a sheer white dressing gown. I thought 
that, perhaps, she was ill and had slept late, but her complexion still 
that healthy glow and she had put on her make-up. Perhaps, I thought, 
she had slept in and was enjoying a day off.

Matt sat in the chair opposite the settee across the wide coffee table 
which carried a couple of magazines and an empty coffee mug. Megan 
perched on its arm. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't notice her long 
legs when the lower half of her dressing gown separated and I caught 
sight of them. No. Truth to tell I'd be a liar if I didn't say that, 
throughout the conversational niceties, I found myself having to drag 
my attention away from her thighs when they tumbled into view each time 
Megan shifted herself on the arm of the chair and before she rearranged 
her clothing. Maybe this is one of those things I said I wasn't 
entirely proud of. I'm fifty-three years old. I meet young, attractive 
women pretty much all the time. Sometimes I look at them and I feel 
like I'm twenty-four again. Sometimes I remember that they are young 
enough to be my daughter. So I found myself feeling turned on by a 
woman half my age in a dressing gown that showed off her legs. Feel 
free to judge me.

So we chatted for a while. We talked about Matt's job and Megan working 
in a bar. We talked about the weather and the recent train strike that 
meant that they couldn't get down for Matt's parents' silver wedding. 
We talked about the things you talk about with people you know but who 
aren't your close friends. We talked, but it seemed to me that there 
was a tension in the air. Although Megan sat on the arm of the chair 
next to her fiancé, there was not contact between them. She kept 
herself turned away from him. There was a time, when I first knew them 
as a couple, when they would complete each others' sentences. Now it 
was like they were speaking different languages.

Then it came to the crunch. "Look, Mike", said Megan, flashing me her 
prettiest smile. "I want to come clean for you. We're a bit short for 
the rent this month."

I gave them my best disappointed sigh. "OK. How short?"

"A hundred pounds," Megan replied. I was taken aback. That was about a 
week's worth of rent and I pointed this out. Megan shot a sharp look at 
Matt and told me that he had taken it from the rent tin and 'lost' it.

"Well," said. "I suppose if you could get it to me next week..." I began.

"I don't think we'll have it." Megan replied. Before I could say 
anything else she said, "Maybe we could pay in kind in some way."

I shook my head. "Unless you've got something I need that would just 
give me the headache of selling whatever it is for a decent price."

"That wasn't what I had in mind," said Megan. She got up off the arm of 
the chair and fixed me with those gorgeous eyes. With a single, 
deliberate movement she untied the sash of her dressing gown and 
allowed it to fall open. I almost had to remind myself to breathe. Her 
body was absolutely stunning. Her skin was flawless and seemed almost 
to shine with a light of its own. Her breasts were on the small side, 
but were beautifully round and pert with deep brown nipples. My gaze 
drifted downward across the gentle curve of her stomach to the neatly 
trimmed patch of hair between her legs long. shapely legs.

With a shrug of her shoulders Megan allowed her dressing gown to fall 
from her shoulders and it tumbled to the ground behind her as she 
stepped toward me. I glanced toward Matt who was sitting with his face 
turned away from what was happening a few feet away from him. His 
fiancée was kneeling in front of me. She placed her hands on my knees 
and gently urged them apart. Moving between them she unbuckled my belt, 
her eyes fixed on mine, then unfastened my flies. She slipped her hand 
inside my trousers and I felt her brush it over the bulge in my boxers. 
I saw her raise her eyebrows slightly.  I'm pretty well-endowed in the 
trouser department and I don't think she had expected that.

Megan gripped the waistband of my trousers and began to pull. I suppose 
that was the Rubicon moment. If I really was the decent, upright, good 
man I sometimes like to consider myself to be, that's the moment when I 
could have stopped what was happening and said, "Megan. If it means you 
having to do this, forget the week's rent." I could well afford to do 
that. Instead I lifted my backside off the settee and allowed the 
beautiful, naked young woman to pull my trousers out from under me and 
off while her fiancé sat just a few feet away beginning now, perhaps, 
to grasp what his habits - whatever they were - had cost them.

I held Megan's gaze as she wrapped soft, long, warm fingers around my 
already swelling shaft. Then she looked at my swelling member and a 
small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. With small, deft motions 
she teased my cock to its full size - about nine inches long from my 
perspective and about an inch and a half thick. Her eyes seemed to 
widen as she made me so hard it was almost painful. She ran her tongue 
up the ridge on its underside and teased that really sensitive spot 
just under my now very swollen glans. Cupping my balls she rolled her 
tongue over and back down my shaft. I swear I was as stiff as a steel 
bar and I suspect that all real moral decision making processes were 
off the table when she opened her mouth wide and took the glistening 
purple head of my cock in. Oh God it felt so good. I stroked her hair 
and gently urged her to take me deeper. I felt the softness of hair on 
my stomach as her head moved on my phallus. I just felt wonderful and 
moaned my appreciation.

After a minute or two Megan go up and offered me her hand. "I think we 
should finish this in the bedroom," she said.

"But we agreed..." began Matt, but was cut short by a glare from his 
fiancée that would have stopped a tank in its tracks.

"We agreed that you were going to stop," she replied curtly. "We agreed 
that the rent tin was off-limits. I'm the one getting us out of a hole 
that you dug, so I get to call the shots. Still, if you really insist 
that we sort this out with a blow job, go ahead. Be my guest. You be 
the one that gets a mouthful of semen." She paused for a moment as if 
waiting for a reply that she knew was never coming. "No? Right then. I 
don't see why I shouldn't get something out of this." She offered her 
hand to me again and I took it, rising from the settee and following 
her, appreciating now the roundness and neat curves of her arse.

In the bedroom the curtains were still closed and the duvet had been 
thrown back on the double bed that Matt and Megan shared. Megan threw 
he duvet off the bed and I shucked off my jacket, almost ripped off my 
tie and unbuttoned my shirt. When I was done and was naked, Megan was 
lying on the sheet-covered bed, her skin given a golden sheen by the 
sunlight filtering through the ivory curtain

"Are you sure about this?" I asked.

"Nope!" she said, "But when you call the shots you have to stand by 
them." Then she beckoned me to her. I lay on top of her, my thigh 
between hers, hard against her vulva, my hand cupping one of those 
beautiful petite breasts and rolling my thumb over its hardening 
nipple. Our mouths met and our tongues rolled over each other, teasing 
each other and caressing each other. I felt her hands on my back, 
pressing me to her, then one slipped to arse, caressing my buttocks, 
slipping between them to tease my anus. She was really getting into it.

I began to kiss and to lick my way down Megan's body, pausing to take 
her now hard and erect nipples between my teeth and to bite them 
gently, drawing soft gasps from her. Then down the flat smoothness of 
her stomach. "Ohhh Oh yes..." she murmured as my tongue got closer to 
her crotch. Not all men like licking pussy, but I get a real kick out 
of the sounds of pleasure women make and generally I like the taste of 
their juices. Now my tongue glided between her lips and probed at her 
entrance. Slowly, lazily, I licked up and rolled over the nub of her 
clitoris. "OH!" I heard her moan and her hips bucked spontaneously.

As my mouth worked on her I could hear her moans of pleasure becoming 
louder and her juices grew sweeter. She stroked my hair and gasped and 
I was enjoying every moment. After a few minutes, though I got up onto 
my knees between her legs. She looked at my staff, standing hard and 
erect. It was time to fuck. "I don't have a condom," I said simply.
"You won't need one," she replied huskily. "A week's rent?"

I nodded. "A week's rent". Then she spread her legs wide. From the 
corner of my eye I could see Matt standing in the bedroom doorway. 
Maybe he had been hoping it would not come to this. Maybe he felt that 
it that he was responsible. I'm not sure if he was actually watching as 
I presented the tip of my penis to the entrance of his fiancée's pussy 
and pushed the head just inside. My God she was tight. I heard her 
gasp. I began to fuck her with slow, careful movements inside her, 
teasing her entrance and probing gradually deeper, feeling her walls 
gripping my shaft as they stretched to accommodate my manhood. I 
listened to her moans of pleasure as I filled her over and over again. 
I enjoyed the feel of her body writhing against mine and her thighs 
rising against my flanks to allow me to go deeper until my whole cock 
was buried inside her.

"Oh my God yesssss...." she purred. "Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Please! 
Harder!" I hooked my elbows round the backs of her knees and began to 
pound my penis into her tight, wet pussy fast and hard. My God she felt 
fantastic round my stiff cock as I drove it into her rapid and regular. 
With each thrust she cried out and spurred me on to piston my shaft 
inside her channel. She had clearly abandoned herself to the pleasures 
of the moment and had, for the moment, entirely forgotten the young man 
who had asked her to be his wife.  As I picked up the pace her pretty 
face was a picture of lust and passion and it drove me to thrust 
harder, driving the tip of my cock to her cervix again and again and 
again. At last her eyes widened and her body began to buck. "OHMYGOD! 
OHMYGOD! FUCK!FUCKFUCK! YES!!!!" she screamed and I felt the inner 
walls of her pussy rippling on my cock as orgasm ripped through her.

After a few moments she came down from the peak and I realised that, 
amazingly, I had not come and was still hard. Withdrawing from her I 
turned her panting, glistening, unresisting body face down on the bed. 
Getting astride her slim thighs I slipped my cock between her legs and 
found her entrance again. "More?" I asked. A soft, throaty moan of 
delight was her only reply and I drove into her provoking a long cry of 
pleasure from Megan. Then I was fucking her again, hard and fast. Every 
stroke, I think, must have ground her clit against the bed and she was 
clawing convulsively at the sheets and urging me on with cries and 
wimpers and grunts of lust.

And now I was as wild and abandoned as she was. My groin was slapping 
into that beautiful arse and I was thrusting into her with a hunger and 
need I had not experienced for many years. I had entirely forgotten the 
young man who had offered his hand to this young woman. I didn't give a 
thought to her being young enough to be my daughter because right at 
that moment I felt like I was twenty-four again and enjoying the first 
great fuck of my life. "SHIT!!" She was shouting. 
"OH....MY.....FUCKING....FUCK! FUCK!" Then she was squealing as a 
second orgasm filled her. I felt her inner muscles gripping my cock. 
This time there was no going back. Electric joy arced from my prick to 
my brain lighting up every nerve cell on the way. Pulses of pleasure 
flowed through me as I pumped burst after burst of semen into Megan's 
hungry pussy.

After a minute or so I rolled off onto my back beside her quivering 
body. Gasping and sweat-covered we lay for a while side by side. 
Eventually I got up and accepted Megan's offer of the use of the shower 
before I got dressed and left. Matt was nowhere to be seen. I said at 
the beginning that there were things about what happened that I regret. 
I liked Matt: he was a good guy when I first met him. A few days later 
I learned that he and Megan had split up and that he had moved out. 
Obviously I felt a degree of responsibility for that. I imagine it's 
hard to get the image out of your mind of your fiancée screaming 
obscenities as she cums on another man's cock, or of him emptying her 
balls inside her. I sometimes worry what became of him. Still - every 
cloud and all that. Megan kept the flat on. Now that there is only one 
income coming in she generally comes up short with the rent. Which is 
fine. We have an arrangement which, I like to think, satisfies both of 
us. Tomorrow is the fifteenth of November. I always like the fifteenth 
of the month.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+