From Blushes 45
‘Not tomorrow,’ Linda said. ‘I’ve got to see Mr Benn.’
Mr Benn was Linda’s landlord. Paul had met him on a couple of occasions: he seemed a pleasant enough bloke. Older of course, he must be 60, so he wasn’t going to be interested in Linda. Paul had a jealous trait which really got him going at time. Like that bloke Derek that Linda went riding with.
Paul asked why she had to see Mr Benn. ‘My rent, silly,’ Linda said making a face. Her rent was due and her bank balance seemed to have got down to zero. So she would have to sweet talk Mr Benn, she told Paul. Have a cup of tea with him and then get around to asking if he didn’t mind waiting a week or so.
‘Sweet talk?’ Paul queried.
Fluttering her eyelashes Linda said, ‘You know.’ She was a very pretty girl, medium height with silky ash-blonde hair and a super figure. At 19 she was a year younger than Paul. At times he felt very jealous, especially when Linda was out somewhere with someone else. That horseback riding that she did with this other bloke, Derek. He was only a friend, Paul knew that, but nonetheless… sometimes he pictured them out on a ride; stopping somewhere, a wood perhaps. Tethering the horses. Then Linda taking off her riding jodhpurs and her knickers and down on the grass screwing with Derek for all she was worth.
It was stupid, Paul knew that, Derek was only a friend. But that didn’t stop him imagining it, torturing himself. But not with Mr Benn, of course, he was just a harmless old bloke. It was as well that Linda’s landlord wasn’t younger or Paul would be having kittens imagining Linda screwing the ears off him all the time. Screwing for the rent. Like now when she had got short. In that sitting room of his, on the couch. Or in Linda’s room, on her bed. The horny landlord with his big dick inside Linda. Ramming her like a jack-rabbit.
‘OK,’ Paul said, reluctantly agreeing that Linda had to see Mr Benn. ‘Thursday then. We’ll go Thursday.’ It was Tuesday now. Paul wanted to see the film but also he wanted to be with Linda. If he was with her she wasn’t with someone else. That Derek — did he ever go round to her place? And there were men in the office where she worked of course. Her boss, Mr Granfield, was older but not as old as Mr Benn. Quite possibly still at an age when he could get horny. Not that he really looked the type, Paul had to admit, having seen him. But there were also other blokes in her office: young blokes…
‘Can we go back to your place?’ he suggested. Linda said sharply, ‘No. You know, Paul.’ Mr Benn had strict views about visitors. Paul had been to Linda’s room on two occasions, when Mr Benn was away. He had fucked Linda on her bed each time. It had been fantastic — but of course it meant he could picture other blokes there, on top of Linda, doing the same thing. That Derek… or her boss, Mr Granfield, in spite of him not looking the type… or one of those others at her office. Not Mr Benn, though, thankfully.
Arthur Benn stroked Linda’s tits. She shivered but stood still, not squirming away or pushing his hand away. She had no bra on, or a slip. Just her thin blouse. That was what Mr Benn liked, she knew that, and as she couldn’t pay the rent right now she needed him to be in a good mood. So she had taken her bra off. And she had put on stockings white ones, with a white suspender belt. Mr Benn liked stockings the same as he liked a girl with no bra on when he was playing with her tits.
His fingers pinched a nipple. ‘A bit short, Linda? What do you do with all your money? Perhaps you’re not a very good businesswoman, is that it?’ His other hand came up to work on Linda’s right nipple.
‘I… I don’t know.’ The words popped breathily out from the soft lips. Where did the money go? Not that she earned that much and it just seemed to disappear. So that… she had to be nice to Mr Benn.
They were in Linda’s room, Mr Benn sitting on the bed. Linda had popped out to get a few things from the corner shop and Mr Benn was here waiting when she got back. Earlier she had looked in to his room and said she wanted to see him. Mr Benn had given her a knowing look… and pinched Linda’s tits and then her bottom. He would come up to her room in half an hour, he said. So Linda had got ready: taken off her bra, put on the stockings and suspender belt and a pair of very brief sexy knickers. She had put a coat on to go to the shop, not sure how much you could see through the thin blouse and not wanting to give the man in the shop any ideas. The coat came off for Mr Benn. Naturally. She had to show her tits to Mr Benn… and let him feel them…
His hands were unbuttoning Linda’s blouse now. ‘Don’t know?’ he murmured. ‘Dear oh dear.’ Pulling her blouse open. There they were, the firm, high cones, their nipples stiffened up from Mr Benn’s tweaking fingers. ‘Lovely.’ he said. ‘They seem to get nicer every time I see them.’
His hands were sliding over them while Linda stood still and let it happen. Because there was no choice: she wanted something from Mr Benn and he in turn wanted something from her. Mr Benn had made this clear the first time she had got short and had gone to see him. That was a few months ago now. Ever since then…
‘Maybe we should have some exercises, Linda. Exercise helps to keep the mind sharp. Perhaps then you can keep track of your finances better.’
Linda had been expecting exercises. Mr Benn was very keen on exercises — as he was keen on stockings and suspender belts and no bra. One of his hands now left her nude tits and slid down and up under her skirt. ‘Exercises, Linda. You know you like the exercises.’ The hand was examining her stocking top, and the suspender clasp. Then sliding further up, to the skimpy little nylon knickers. Brief sexy knickers were another item you had to think about if you wanted Mr Benn to be co-operative about the rent. Linda kept still as the fingers explored her crotch. The joke was that Paul, usually so jealous of everyone, thought Mr Benn was a nice old chap. Not that it was a joke, all this sort of business. The exercises weren’t a joke. Mr Benn’s hand was continuing to explore what it liked to explore. You just had to stand still and let him do it. And then, when he was ready…
The hand came away. ‘Right, young lady. Shall we start?’
Mr Benn meant take her clothes off. Everything except the stockings and suspender belt, that was the exercise outfit: nude except for that and her shoes. And of course Linda was doing it: unzipping her skirt and stepping out of it; slipping off the unbuttoned blouse. Then her knickers. Mr Benn liked to take them off himself. She turned and leaned on the chest of drawers, pushing her bottom out at him. He slid the knickers down, off of Linda’s thrusting bottom and down the rounded thighs. Right off. His hand stroking the ripe cheeks. Underneath… and into the tunnel of her thighs…
When he was ready Linda straightened up and turned to face him. Mr Benn’s hand took hold of the light brown bush of her pussy. ‘Feeling fit, are we, my dear?’
She mumbled something. Trying to ignore the hand which was stroking, fondling, as it had done from behind when she was leaning on the chest. His hand doing its best to get her hot — and succeeding. Because you couldn’t remain impervious to it. Having to stand still and let Mr Benn do this — it was worse than the exercises. But not as bad as the cane. The cane came after the exercises. When Mr Benn decided you hadn’t done them properly, not put sufficient energy into them. Mr Benn always decided this, and there was always the cane. At the end. Something to look forward to. And not just the cane but the cane in Mr Benn’s special position. A position that made you squirm just to think about…
Mr Benn’s hand came away. Now she had to start, with her body all hot and tingly. Bending and stretching this way and that; arms stretching high and then touching her toes; knees up as high as they would go; side bends; arching her body backwards… stretching each time as hard as she could. About ten minutes of this and by the end of it she was really glowing, sweating… and aching.
‘OK, that’ll do.’ Mr Benn’s hand rubbing across her hot tits. ‘It was all right but I don’t think you were really working at it, Linda. To be honest, eh?’
There was no point arguing. He wanted to use the cane and if Linda didn’t agree to the cane he wasn’t going to co-operate about the rent. She made an in-voluntary grimace: that bloody cane… and that position…
‘Come on then…’
Getting down on the floor. On her back. And lifting her legs up over her. Right over until her feet touched the floor above her head. It meant of course that everything was presented to Mr Benn’s eager gaze. Presented and open to his equally eager fingers… Linda was wet from his earlier gropings and from the exercises. Mr Benn’s hand slid in between the slippery-wet lips. Linda made a whimpery sound.
‘How’s that boyfriend of yours getting on,’ he asked, sliding his fingers over her pink inner parts. ‘Paul, is it? I suppose he’s after this all the time.’
Linda didn’t answer. Only more whimperings. Mr Benn didn’t really want an answer. He was simply amusing himself. It was an amusement she had to accept without protest but he didn’t need an answer. Only the whimperings, the groans. He probably liked to hear her making those sounds.
The sounds were shortly somewhat different. As the fingers stopped and those fingers were now clasping the end of Mr Benn’s cane. Not a whimper but an urgent, desperate yelp. As the cane sliced down onto Linda’s upturned nates.
Oh Jesus! The other got you all hot and bothered… but this…
CRACK!… again. And another of those frantic yelps. Not that yelling mattered at Mr Benn’s. His only other tenant was as it happened out at this moment but in any case that other tenant was also female and young and attractive. Linda suspected that Debbie also had rent problems at times — and had to resolve them in a similar manner to herself.
CRACK!… Another desperate stinger. ‘Don’t squirm about too much,’ Mr Benn advised. ‘I like a nice stationary target. You don’t want me to have to keep going all night, do you?’
‘Any luck? With your bloke. Mr Benn.’
‘Yes. It was OK. He’s not so bad, as long as you ask him nicely.’
Linda inwardly grimaced as she spoke this travesty of the truth. Although it wasn’t really an untruth: Mr Benn was all right as long as you were co-operative. It was just that Paul had no idea what being nice meant. And he had better not get any idea.
In the cinema Paul asked, hoping against hope, whether Mr Benn might be out this evening, so that they could go back to Linda’s room afterwards.
The cinema was half empty and Paul had his hand up under Linda’s skirt on her soft bare thighs. This only made him feel more frustrated, though. He hadn’t fucked Linda for at least a week — ten days it must be now. The trouble was it was difficult to find a place living with his parents as he did. And apart from feeling frustrated himself he had the thought that Linda too needed it and if he wasn’t fucking her she would be getting it from someone else. She laughed when he said that, didn’t she get frustrated, and told him not to be silly. But she would say that, wouldn’t she? That Derek… or Mr Granfield…
As he had anticipated Linda’s low voice said, ‘No. Not possible. He’s in.’ She put her hand on top of Paul’s through her skirt. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered. The hand was trying to get to her pussy. Where of course 24 hours earlier Mr Benn’s hand had been freely roaming: stroking and massaging and getting her all wet. But that was Mr Benn… and she had to let him do it.
He was in, his light was on, when Linda got back. She tip-toed along the corridor when she saw it so that he wouldn’t hear her coming in. Mr Benn had agreed on the rent, she didn’t need to pay for two weeks, and that agreement was a result of what she had let him do: putting on the stockings etc and doing the exercises and letting him cane her. Not to mention letting him play with her tits and her pussy. So really that was it, or it should be, she had paid the price. But… that didn’t mean that Mr Benn might not decide he wanted a bit more. And if he did… Linda had no choice. So she tip-toed, keeping her heels from making contact with the wood-block floor. She could anyway hear the sound of his TV, that would drown out any sound.
You would have thought so but not much later there was a querying knock at her door. It made her jump. It could of course be Debbie, perhaps wanting to borrow some sugar or something but Linda had a pretty good idea… she could not answer it, pretend she wasn’t in. She had just got on her pyjamas, ready for bed. The knock came again. Oh Jesus… but she had better answer it. Yes, Mr Benn. Pushing in. Grabbing her at the same time. ‘I thought I heard you come in, Linda. All ready for bed, I see.’
He sat on the bed and pulled her in front of him. Then pulled Linda’s pyjama trousers down, to her knees. She gave a yelp but didn’t of course really try to stop him. ‘Been out with that young chap, Linda? Paul? And what have you and him been doing. Eh?’
Linda mumbled that they’d gone to the pictures. Mr Benn’s hand was at her pussy. ‘And what else, young lady? That young chap doesn’t just want to go to the pictures, I know that. I know what he wants. Did you let him have it? Did you let him have a fuck?’
Linda gasped ‘No!’ Mr Benn was just trying to get her all hot and bothered. Doing what he was doing with his hand and saying things like that. Anyway there was nowhere to go and do it. Paul didn’t have a car and his place was out of the question. In any case she didn’t feel like it all the time… ‘No, I didn’t,’ she said again.
But Mr Benn was now thinking about something else. He had taken his hand away. ‘How about a few exercises? Before you get into bed?’
Linda groaned, ‘No… please…’ But she knew that wasn’t going to help. If Mr Benn wanted exercises again… he made her take the pyjamas right off, so that she was nude. And then… just like yesterday. Yesterday was supposed to have been for the rent agreement, but now… Linda was having to do it again. A second instalment. Stretching her arms up it seemed to be breaking point; desperately wide splits; toe-touching… and when Mr Benn had had enough of this… she knew what it would be then…
Saturday afternoon Linda went for her regular horse ride with Derek. He drove her out to the riding school and then they rode out in the country. It was a really nice break. Paul of course always tried to get Linda to do something with him on Saturday afternoons — just so that she wouldn’t go out with Derek. Sometimes it really annoyed Linda that Paul tried so hard to stop her Saturday rides. The first time she screwed Derek it was because of that: Paul being so awkward. Derek had tried to get her to screw before but Linda had said no. This time, though, she had gone to Derek’s place afterwards and screwed him. It had been really good — and the guilty feeling she felt about Paul had made it even better, more exciting. Linda didn’t screw Derek every time, she was after all Paul’s steady girlfriend. But sometimes…
Sometimes Linda really felt like it. Like she did today. What with Mr Benn and his bloody cane and everything else; and Paul again going on at her. Not to mention Mr Granfield at the office who had been a bit of a bugger all week. Yes today Linda felt she really needed it. At Derek’s place. On his couch. Derek was nice, she could tell him things. About Mr Benn for instance. Not that Derek was particular sympathetic. When she had first told him about the caning etc he had laughed and said he would like to see it: Linda doing her exercises and then getting the cane.
No, Derek wasn’t always sympathetic but she still liked him. At his place he said, ‘Maybe I should cane you like your Mr Benn!’ Linda laughed. Not that it was a joke, not if you were on the receiving end of it.Derek made her a drink and then they screwed on the couch. It was really good, just what she needed. She thought of Paul while she was screwing, thought that it was really his own fault and if he hadn’t kept on she might not be doing it. It was really, really good though. She came twice.