My Caribbean Landlady II: Romping at her House

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Volanette’s apartment overlooked one of the island’s busiest beaches, which was lined with bars and restaurants. It occupied the top floor of a building in a compound of small apartment buildings which she owned and it had a big balcony in front which caught the breeze.I was a few minutes early and she was busy in her study, so she asked me to wait in the front room. In a shallow bowl on the coffee table, I saw a number of sachets and picked one up out of idle curiosity. It was called Freshie, by a company called Woo More Play and in large letters on the back it said Get Dirty, Get Clean, Repeat. There were three symbols underneath: a cartoon bomb with a fizzing fuse, what looked like two coconut halves and a pink heart shape on which was written Lick Me. So, these were not your average wet wipes. I looked them up online on my phone and found the liquid they were impregnated with a mixture of natural substances, with no nasty chemicals, and they were designed to be kind to sexual organs.Soon Volanette came through, apologizing for making me wait.It was Sunday afternoon and we sat outside, having a glass of white wine that she had got Denizli Escort from Les Vins d’Europe, which was the only place to buy from, as the supermarkets stocked only “cheap” wine which was depressingly expensive and made even worse through having been stored in hot warehouses for who-knows how long.A businesswoman on her weekend off, she was wearing a sand-coloured t-shirt outside a matching linen skirt. She was barefoot, her toenails painted dark red, and her panties were also a kind of burgundy. I knew this because she was sitting with one foot up on her chair and had a habit of waving the knee around when she talked. So, she was flashing me and knew she was doing it, but it didn’t matter because we had already had a glorious hour together at my place, which she also owned. What she was doing with this carefully choreographed exposure of her underwear was teasing me, getting me revved up and proving to herself that she had this power over me. She was staying in control.Then she paused with her legs apart and just looked at me. Her beautiful ebony thighs drew my eyes to the house of wonder at their Denizli Escort Bayan junction. These were ordinary knickers, not a thong, and although it crossed my mind that this was a downgrading of her underwear, they looked expensive, and she was giving me a show.She must have noticed the direction of my gaze, because she said, “The trouble with normal pants is they can make what’s inside them perspire.” She looked at me for a reaction and I gave her my most noncommittal pleasant expression.“But I imagine you’re okay with that, aren’t you?” she continued.“I want to smell them,” I replied.“Well, I’m not stopping you,” she said with her own pleasant, innocent expression. “Do you want to smell them on or off?”“On,” I said. “Before I pull them off.” She stared at me, a smouldering, dirty stare that was not so much a dare as a demand for proof.“I had a shower two hours ago,” she said, looking at the view. “Since that time I have peed, but that’s all. They may be a bit damp with one thing and another.”I knelt in front of her, and she pulled the other foot up onto the chair. I kissed her left thigh all Escort Denizli the way down from the knee to her crotch and nuzzled her knickers with my nose.“My favourite cocktail,” I said, inhaling deeply. I lapped at her crotch, pulling the gusset aside and receiving a stronger whiff of her wonderful soup. I sucked her pussy lips and her pee hole, licked her clitoris and pulled her lips apart to reveal more of her lovely, soft pinkness.“I don’t think we’ll be needing these anymore,” I said, reaching around to the back and pulling them down. She raised herself a little to help.Then she just looked at me again.I pushed her back in the deep chair and pulled her so her arsehole was exposed.“You have the most beautiful anus,” I said as I placed my face in the zone and began licking her secreted oil. After a few moments of this she began to quiver and her voice changed, the glib self-assurance challenged by feelings of excitement that loosened her grip on herself and the situation.“Really,” she said uncertainly. “I hardly know you and you’re doing things that…”“You’re allowing me to do things,” I interrupted. “If you’d like me to stop…”“Oh God no,” she said, grabbing my head and keeping my face right there. “It is odd, though.”I grunted my acknowledgment and she continued. “You’re not my slave, are you.” It wasn’t a question, more like an answer. “You’re just doing things that a lot of people would consider demeaning.”

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