lace panties and bra. I don’t look at him as I dress, not because I’m shy but I want to imagine him being voyeur and it turns me on. Turning my back to him I bend and step into the panties and slide them slowly up my legs moving my ass as I do. When I put on the bra my hands brush along my breasts making my nipples harden as I trace a finger along the edges. I slowly take out a pair of thigh high stockings and bend taking my sweet time covering my legs with them. While I decide on what to wear I stand at the door of the closet and give him a good look before I dress in the grey pinstriped slacks, a slate grey sweater and black heels. I put each piece of clothing on methodically knowing he’s watching the movements of my body as I do. When I’m done I turn to look at him, his erection is straining against his pants but he hasn’t moved an inch. A long moment passes before he says anything.
“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you Elizabeth?” His voice is low and firm sending erotic tremors through me.
I flush and hesitate answering him feeling like I’m going to be punished and heat begins to rise in me.
Quietly I say, “Yes.” I’m so turned on by his reaction and I can’t believe after all of the sex we’ve just had between last night and this morning I’m ready to go again.
“You’re lucky I’m not going to throw you over my lap and spank that beautiful ass of yours then fuck you hard and fast...this time. Tease me like that again and you can be certain I won’t hesitate.”
Holy shit! Why do I want to beg him to please do it, the flesh on my ass tingling with just the thought? My pussy is throbbing probably harder than his cock.
“Ok,” is all I can manage to croak out between my heavy breaths.
He’s commando when we leave my apartment, holding his underwear in one hand nonchalantly with his other arm draped over my shoulder. The clouds are beginning to leave the sky and the ground is covered with wet morning dew from last night’s chilly air. Walking down the path to the curb a voice startles me.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” the tone is flat. I turn and see my landlord in front of his portion of the house. There is a beautiful magnolia tree in the front yard that blooms the prettiest white flowers in the spring along with an oak. The magnolia is a grand southern madam that is strong and robust yet delicate and demure. Her leaves are thick, smooth and shiny deep green on one side with a hint of red on the bottom. The hardiness of the tree and leaves shows in the smooth flower petals she graces us with. Mr. Jones is raking up the debris from the trees as they get ready to hibernate for the winter and from the branches that have broken off from the strong winds we’ve had recently. He’s an older gentleman who usually always tries to appear refined which makes me believe he’s got a lot of skeletons in his closet. There is something about his demeanor towards me this morning that is unsettling.
“Good morning, Mr. Jones.” I try to be friendly even with the strange feeling I’m getting from him. He’s always been very personable and open before which is why his attitude today strikes me as strange. He’s watching us intently with a serious expression on his face.
Marco senses it as well so he approaches him extending his hand to introduce himself, “Good morning, Mr. Jones, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Marco Kastanopoulis.”
“Pleasure.” He shakes Marcos hand but Mr. Jones’ attitude is bordering rude. He doesn’t say anything else to Marco to even attempt at being polite so Marco leaves him standing there in his pile of drying up leaves and twigs holding the rake in his hand.
“Enjoy your day, Mr. Jones.” I say. He doesn’t reply but just keeps looking at us. I want to get out of this somehow uncomfortable situation fast so I continue towards my Nissan Altima with Marco
“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you Elizabeth?” His voice is low and firm sending erotic tremors through me.
I flush and hesitate answering him feeling like I’m going to be punished and heat begins to rise in me.
Quietly I say, “Yes.” I’m so turned on by his reaction and I can’t believe after all of the sex we’ve just had between last night and this morning I’m ready to go again.
“You’re lucky I’m not going to throw you over my lap and spank that beautiful ass of yours then fuck you hard and fast...this time. Tease me like that again and you can be certain I won’t hesitate.”
Holy shit! Why do I want to beg him to please do it, the flesh on my ass tingling with just the thought? My pussy is throbbing probably harder than his cock.
“Ok,” is all I can manage to croak out between my heavy breaths.
He’s commando when we leave my apartment, holding his underwear in one hand nonchalantly with his other arm draped over my shoulder. The clouds are beginning to leave the sky and the ground is covered with wet morning dew from last night’s chilly air. Walking down the path to the curb a voice startles me.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” the tone is flat. I turn and see my landlord in front of his portion of the house. There is a beautiful magnolia tree in the front yard that blooms the prettiest white flowers in the spring along with an oak. The magnolia is a grand southern madam that is strong and robust yet delicate and demure. Her leaves are thick, smooth and shiny deep green on one side with a hint of red on the bottom. The hardiness of the tree and leaves shows in the smooth flower petals she graces us with. Mr. Jones is raking up the debris from the trees as they get ready to hibernate for the winter and from the branches that have broken off from the strong winds we’ve had recently. He’s an older gentleman who usually always tries to appear refined which makes me believe he’s got a lot of skeletons in his closet. There is something about his demeanor towards me this morning that is unsettling.
“Good morning, Mr. Jones.” I try to be friendly even with the strange feeling I’m getting from him. He’s always been very personable and open before which is why his attitude today strikes me as strange. He’s watching us intently with a serious expression on his face.
Marco senses it as well so he approaches him extending his hand to introduce himself, “Good morning, Mr. Jones, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Marco Kastanopoulis.”
“Pleasure.” He shakes Marcos hand but Mr. Jones’ attitude is bordering rude. He doesn’t say anything else to Marco to even attempt at being polite so Marco leaves him standing there in his pile of drying up leaves and twigs holding the rake in his hand.
“Enjoy your day, Mr. Jones.” I say. He doesn’t reply but just keeps looking at us. I want to get out of this somehow uncomfortable situation fast so I continue towards my Nissan Altima with Marco
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