Rooftop Rent

The first thing I noticed about Mrs. Drakos was how she watched me. Not like a boss checking a new employee. Like a woman deciding if she wanted to take a bite.

I was her new tenant. Three months late on rent, fresh out of a job, and she knew it. When she called me up to the roof that evening, I figured it was the eviction speech.

Instead, she handed me a glass of wine and leaned against the railing.

"Leo," she said, her voice low and smoky, "you're twenty-four. I'm forty-two. I own this building and three others. You have nothing I want... except maybe your time."

The city glittered below us, a thousand lights reflecting in her dark eyes. She was wearing a silk blouse, unbuttoned just enough to show the curve of her breasts. No bra.

"I don't understand."

She stepped closer. Her perfume hit me — jasmine and something sharp, like cinnamon.

"I think you do." Her hand landed on my chest, flat against my shirt. "I've been watching you through your window. Every night. You think I don't see you walking around in those boxers?"

My cock hardened instantly. She smiled, feeling it through my jeans.

"Mrs. Drakos—"

"Elena." She unbuttoned my jeans with one hand, slow, deliberate. "Say it."

"Elena."

"Buen chico."

She dropped to her knees. No warning, no hesitation. Her mouth found my cock through the fabric, hot breath against the denim. I grabbed the railing behind me.

"Fuck..."

She pulled my jeans down, took me in her hand, and then her mouth was on me — wet, hungry, taking me deep before I could even breathe. Her tongue traced the underside, her lips tight around the head. I watched her, this powerful woman, kneeling on the rooftop gravel, sucking me like she was starving.

"Elena, I'm gonna—"

She pulled off, just the tip in her mouth, and looked up at me. Her eyes were dark, hungry.

"Not yet. I'm not done with you."

She stood, unbuttoned her blouse, let it fall. Her tits were full, heavy, nipples hard in the cool night air. She took my hand and pressed it between her legs. Her skirt was soaked through.

"Touch me."

I pushed her against the railing, slid my hand up her thigh, into her panties. She was wet, so wet my fingers slipped inside her easily. She moaned, bit her lip, grabbed my wrist.

"Harder."

I fucked her with my fingers, her hips grinding against my hand, her breath coming in sharp gasps. She came fast — a shudder, a cry, her nails digging into my shoulder.

"Now," she whispered, pulling my hand out, guiding my cock to her entrance. "Fuck me, Leo. Right here."

I lifted her onto the railing. She wrapped her legs around me, and I pushed inside her — slow at first, then harder, deeper, her wetness coating me. The city was glowing below us, cars honking, life going on, and I was fucking my landlady on a rooftop.

"Don't stop," she gasped, her head falling back. "Don't you fucking stop."

I didn't. I fucked her until she came again, her body tightening around me, and then I let go, buried deep inside her, spilling everything.

We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, her forehead against mine.

"Rent's due next week," she said, laughing softly.

I laughed too.

"I know."

She kissed me, slow, and whispered against my lips: "I'll give you a discount."