My Landlady’s daughter

 

When I was 20, I got a job in London, and lived there for about 4 years. I ended up renting a room in a house owned by a family from Nairobi, Kenya. The only two family members who actually lived there when I moved in were the mother, who was in her 50’s, and the oldest daughter, who was 26. The parents were separated, and the two other female siblings were living elsewhere with their partners.

I was very sexually inexperienced at the age of 20. I did not lose my virginity until I was 19, and even then it was an escort I’d paid because I didn’t know how to talk to girls properly. I was shy and would hardly even look people in the eye. So at the age of 20, when I moved into the house in Hayes, west London, I had only had sex once, with a hooker, and I’d cum after about two minutes.

I pretty much kept myself to myself when I was at home. The mother and daughter (Pamela and Zandra) would talk to me and occasionally cook for me, but I thought they were just being nice. Pamela worked night shift at Heathrow Airport, so she was gone most nights from about 7pm, getting home each morning between 6 and 7am. Zandra worked dayshift, also at the airport, so she would come home early evenings just as her mother was getting ready to leave.

After a few weeks I was getting bored of sitting in my room watching TV, so I started to venture out, going to the living room to watch TV instead. Pamela had made it clear I was welcome to make myself at home, but beyond using the kitchen and bathroom, I’d pretty much kept myself to myself so far, but boredom got the better of me after a while and downstairs I went.

It was about 7:45pm, and Zandra was sitting on a chair watching some chat show. I went to the kitchen, got myself a Sprite, and wandered back into the living room.

“Hey,” said Zandra, smiling at me. “How was your day?”

“Just fine,” I said. “How was yours?”

“Oh, it was good, you know?” she answered. Zandra and her family spoke English well, but they overpronounced and mispronounced some words and they all had the same accent. I found out later they’d moved to London when Zandra was 14, so only 12 years previously, and she’d not known much English when they arrived.

We fell into silence, and I sipped at my drink. I tried to watch the chat show Zandra had on, but it was really boring. “You are not the father!” I heard over and over again, as guys were publicly shamed into getting paternity tests. At least they were having sex, I thought to myself. I wonder what that must feel like?

I found myself shifting my gaze to Zandra. She was short, maybe 5’2” tall. She wasn’t slim, but she wasn’t fat either. Plump is probably how I would describe her. She had jet black hair (I found out months later that her family were not native to Kenya, but her parents had ended up there before she was born. I can’t remember where they were actually from originally, but she looked like and Indian girl.) It was difficult to make out the shape of her figure – she had on pajama bottoms and a loose-fitting Nike top. Not very flattering, but hey, she was relaxing at home and not trying to impress anyone.

“Is there anything else you’d like to watch?” she suddenly asked?

“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t know what’s on at this time of night. I normally just watch a DVD.”

“Oooh, do you have any good ones?” she asked.

“Several,” I said. “Hang on and I’ll grab some.”

We ended up watching Ace Ventura 2: When Nature Calls. Zandra had seen the first movie, but not the sequel, and she laughed like crazy all the way through. It was a good ice breaker, and soon we were talking freely about everything: work, family, relationships, everything. She’d broken up with her boyfriend some 6 months previously and had ended up moving back in with her parents, only for them to separate a few months later. She said she was staying out of it, she was just happy she had somewhere to live rent-free for a while.

After that night, TV became our evening ritual. We’d watch TV for hours, talking well into the night. Pamela occasionally joined us when she was off, but most of the time she made herself scarce or went to visit one of her other kids. It’s safe to say Zandra and I became really good friends and felt really comfortable around each other.

Zandra had a cat, a ginger cat. She called him “PC”, apparently after a police officer who used to live next door to her who she had a crush on. She found it hilarious one night (it was around 2am at the weekend, and her mother was at work) when a female guest appeared on the Jerry Springer show, a big fat woman wearing a skimpy dress and heels who was having a dispute with her many male partners, who called herself “Pussy”. Zandra thought the name was ridiculous and sounded a bit like her cat’s name. It doesn’t sound funny now, but at the time, making fun of this ridiculous woman on TV, it was hilarious.

My memory is a little fuzzy as to how things progressed, but that same night, Zandra was teasing me about something. She threw a cushion at me from her chair, and when I didn’t throw it back she feigned annoyance and marched over to me to get it. I hit her over the head with it, and she responded by shrieking, falling onto the sofa beside me, grabbing another cushion, and hitting me with it repeatedly. Soon we were laughing and we’d made physical contact with one another.

I didn’t think much of this – I had sisters, and had taken part in pillow fights before – but at one point I actually put my hand out to push her back and accidentally grabbed her boob through her top. It was huge!!! She didn’t flinch, but kept laughing and hitting. She lost hold of her cushion, then started reaching out to tickle me. She managed to get my sides, which I have always found to be ticklish, and soon I was collapsed in a fit of laughter on the sofa, with her leaning over me digging her fingers into my ribs.

She kept this up for what seemed like ages, and I kept trying to wriggle out of the way, but I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to actually move myself properly. Eventually, though, she stopped, then she started to treat me like her cat (all in good fun!) and she began stroking my head and shoulders, saying “Awww, is PC getting tickled? Good PC, we won’t let anyone tickle you anymore, will we? That’s a good PC.”

When she traced her hands over my neck, I felt a touch of excitement – I didn’t normally have girls touching me like this. I closed my eyes, my heart rate elevated, and tried to relax and enjoy it. Zandra became silent, and when I glanced at her, she’d turned her attention back to the TV, but she continued to stroke my hair and neck and shoulders. I just let her, feeling very turned on, but inside thinking she was just being nice.

I gradually leaned back into her, and soon I was resting in her arms. I pretended to have fallen asleep, at which point her hand began to wander a bit. I felt her hand go down to my chest, massaging it through my t-shirt. She must have felt my heart pounding, but I continued to pretend I was sleeping. This went on for ages, or at least it seemed like ages, before Zandra shifted position, shook me out of my relaxed state and said, “Time for bed, PC.”

I remember stumbling up the stairs and into my bedroom. I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of underwear, but nothing else. I flopped onto my bed, and I could hear Zandra pottering around in the kitchen, the light from downstairs faintly illuminating the hallway outside my door. I remember dozing off and jerking awake a few times, and then I heard Zandra in the hallway. Again, I pretended to be asleep, but I could tell she was standing in my doorway. If truth be told, I’d left my room door open on purpose, hoping she’d come in, but not expecting her to.

She seemed to stand there for ages. I was still lying on my stomach, the covers kicked back. I heard her come into the room, quietly and slowly.

“Who’s that?” I mumbled sleepily, still pretending.

“Shhh, it’s just me, silly,” she said.

“Zandra?” I asked.

“Shhh, go to sleep,” she said. I then felt her hand on my back, and I felt the bed dip very slightly as she sat on it beside me. My heart immediately started racing, my cock instantly hard and pushing down against the mattress. She gently rubbed my back through my t-shirt. I was able to glance at my bedside clock. It said 3:34am. I glanced at it again after a while, and it said 3:47am. Zandra was still rubbing my upper back through my t-shirt, very gently.

I let out a deep breath and shifted slightly. Zandra stopped, then started to gently rub my lower back. I felt an immediate surge of lust, not accustomed to being touched there by a woman. She only rubbed there for a few minutes before I felt my t-shirt being raised slightly and I felt her skin on my back. No longer was she doing it through the t-shirt, she had her hand under it and directly on my skin. She started to rub my whole back, tracing circles with her fingers, and massaging every inch of it.

She seemed uncomfortable on the bed, sitting in a twisted position for so long. I thought for ages about what to do next, not knowing what to do, but knowing that if I didn’t do something she’d get up and leave. I didn’t want her to leave. I could see my clock, the digital display illuminated, and it was almost 4:15am. For almost 20 minutes I’d debated inside my head how to get her to lie down with me.

Eventually, I settled on my preferred plan. I jerked up suddenly, pretending to have just woken up. I acted tired and confused, when in reality I was fully alert.

“What’s going on?” I said.

“Shhh,” said Zandra. “Just relax and sleep. Come on, lie on your back.”

I obliged, not opening my eyes. I pushed myself over on the bed, leaving room for her to get on, then slowly opened my eyes.

“It’s cold,” I said.

“Yes, it is.” She acknowledged.

I sighed, turning my head away. “You should get under the covers too,” I said.

She didn’t move, but I rolled my head away from her and pretended to be adjusting myself to get comfortable. I was acting like I was exhausted and had no clue what was happening.

I then felt the bed bounce and realised Zandra was getting onto it and lying down. She laid on her back, and pulled the cover over both of us. I couldn’t believe it!!! I was in bed with a 26 year old woman! It was amazing!

We laid like that for a while, then I felt Zandra roll onto her left side to face me. I kept my eyes closed, still lying on my back. My heart was pounding furiously, my cock as hard as hell. The next thing I know, her hand is on my stomach (still wearing my t-shirt at this point), and was slowly tracing circles through the fabric. I let out a slight moan, letting her know she was having an effect.

“Are you awake?” Zandra asked softly.

“Uh huh,” I muttered. I gulped and she must have heard it.

“Is this ok?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Her hand continued to trace circles, which got lower and lower until she was running her fingers along the top of my jeans. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

“The question I have,” said Zandra, “is … is PC a BIG boy?”

With that, she lowered her hand onto my crotch, feeling my erect penis through my jeans, and slowly rubbing up and down.

“Hmmmm,” she said. “PC is a big boy, isn’t he?”

My breathing got faster, and I wanted to cum so badly, but somehow I managed to contain myself and enjoy the moment.

“I think PC needs to be let out of his cage,” said Zandra.

With that, she started to feel around to try to unfasten my belt, which she managed to do after a minute or so, then she started to unfasten my jeans and pull down the zipper. I then felt her hand on my boxer briefs, continuing to massage my penis through the fabric. It felt amazing. I was throbbing and I could feel that I’d leaked onto my underwear.

“Time to let PC out, I think,” said Zandra. With that, I felt her fingers hook themselves into the elastic of my underwear and lower the front down. My cock sprung out. We were still under the covers at this point, but in the dim light provided by my digital clock, you could clearly see a tent in the covers.

“Let’s see what we’re working with her,” said Zandra, as she ran her hand down my stomach, down my groin, and slowly onto the shaft of my penis. She felt all the way up to the tip and back down again.

“Oh my,” she said. “He’s happy to be out, isn’t he?”

I groaned, my body shuddering at her touch, desperately trying not to cum. Zandra started to slowly and gently stroke my cock, up and down, up and down, not squeezing too tightly, teasing me just enough. She touched the tip and I felt her smear precum down the side. Absolute bliss. I was still trying hard not to cum. I could feel my cock throbbing, and her touch was absolutely electric.

Zandra then tried to push my jeans and underwear down, but struggled to do so, so I arched my back and pushed them down to my ankles, kicking them off. I was now naked from the waist down. She was still fully clothed.

The stroking resumed, but I knew I had to make a move.

“Is this indecent assault?” asked Zandra.

I was still groaning. Breathlessly, I said, “Why would it be indecent assault?”

“Because you never actually told me I could touch you, and you’re just a boy,” she giggled.

“It’s fine,” I said. “But, if I touched you, that might be considered indecent assault.”

“Would it?” she asked. “I think not.”

That was all it took for me. With her still grasping my cock, I turned to face her, reaching over with my left hand and reaching under her shirt. I felt her right breast first. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and I could feel her breath on my face. She was so intoxicating! I gently massaged her breast, and it really got her going. I felt her grip my penis even tighter and stroke more furiously. Within moments of touching her breast, my orgasm came, and stream after stream of hot cum ejaculated onto Zandray’s arm, the bed sheets, and her shirt.

“Shit!” I said, shuddering with the release the orgasm gave me, but so disappointed that I hadn’t gotten any further. I thought I’d blown my chance with Zandra, embarrassing myself at the same time.

“Oooh, that’s ok,” she said. “It’s beautiful.” I looked at her as she gently pulled the covers down, and saw that she was rubbing her fingers together in my cum. “It means you want me.”

“I do,” I admitted. “I’m just not used to this. Next time will be better.”

She didn’t say anything, but I laid back down, my cum between us, and she snuggled up against me, her arm and leg draped over me. I felt so content and so amazing. I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Before too long, Zandra repositioned herself slightly and I felt her breath on my neck. I wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep or not. We hadn’t spoken much since I’d cum all over the place, and about 30 minutes had passed. I groaned slightly, then felt her head move to look at me.

“Are you still awake?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good,” she replied, and immediately started to rub her right hand on my dick again. I felt it go from a semi-erect state to hard in a matter of seconds as she continued to stroke it. It felt amazing, but I didn’t feel the same urgency to cum this time, so I didn’t need to try to hold back. This went on for a few minutes, after which I turned around, leaned in towards her and our lips met. I felt passion and intensity in her warm, wet kiss, as her tongue met mine and thrust itself into my mouth. She became an animal at that point, grinding up against me, furiously tonguing my mouth, her hands everywhere, at times stroking me, at times exploring. My own hands roamed freely over her body, feeling her shape and curves through her clothes, before scrambling furiously to undress her.

Somehow, we both got out of our remaining clothes, and hesitated, naked, in each other’s arms. The hesitation was brief, and we both leaned in to kiss again at the same time, the passion and lust clear in our kiss. I felt my hard cock against her leg, her hand on my ass, her right leg wrapped around me. I pushed my body against her, and we became intertwined, wanting to be part of one another, me wanting to penetrate and her wanting to be penetrated.

I broke away from the kiss, and worked my way down her body, feeling her breasts in both my hands, before licking and then taking each beautiful nipple in my mouth, one after the other. She moaned loudly, and arched her back, pushing her breasts up to meet my tongue, which I swirled around each nipple, driving her wild.

Still hard and throbbing, I rose above her, kissed her full on the lips, and felt her legs open. She reached down with her hand and started to stroke my cock. She spat on her hand and rubbed her spit all over the tip and shaft. I then realised she was fingering herself with the other hand. Before I could react, she pulled me in towards her, guiding my hard cock to her pussy, slowly guiding the tip inside her. She was tight, but wet.

“Push in slowly,” she said.

I did, feeling my hard cock, inch by inch, become enveloped in her moist warmth, sliding every inch of me inside her. She let out a loud prolonged moan as I entered her, and I felt both her hands on my back, pulling me in, while feeling her legs wrap around my waist.

I began to move in and out, slowly at first, then getting faster and faster. I opened my eyes and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, she was biting her lower lip, and she was moaning and saying, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” with every thrust.

I kept pounding away at her, enjoying the feeling of being in this older woman’s pussy, but it wasn’t long, in my inexperienced state, that I felt my orgasm build within me. I kept pounding, sliding effortlessly in and out, and realised how wet she’d become. I felt her pussy clamp around my dick and she began to shake. Realising she was having an orgasm, I thrust as deep as I could and felt my own cum work its way through me. I couldn’t stand it any more. I let out a yell and released streams of hot cum inside her, filling her up, her hips thrusting up to meet me as I pumped away at her, as she milked me for every last drop.

Spent, I pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside her. I looked over and watched her naked chest rise and fall, and watched her occasionally shudder. We were both completely out of breath. Her eyes were closed, her hair all over the pillow, and I could smell sweat and sex and cum.

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“We are doing that again. Tomorrow night, all night!” Zandra yelled.

I smiled, excited and content, before feeling her hand reach over and pull me closer to her.

Zandra’s mother moved out shortly after that, so we ended up having the house to ourselves for months. We fucked in all the bedrooms, the shower, the living room and even in the kitchen. We fucked once in the back garden, and once in her car, which had been broken down for months and was parked in the front driveway.

Eventually, I had to move out and move home, and we lost touch, which was unfortunate. I’ve looked for her over the years but with no luck.

Although I’d paid for an escort before meeting Zandra, I like to consider her my first. There was no passion with the escort, just a mechanical transaction. With Zandra, there was passion and lust and everything that sex should have and be. Some 22 years have passed since then, and she’d be in her late 40’s now, but if I could see her again I’d take her to bed and fuck her all night long.