This story goes back a few years, to shortly after I married Julie. During our first year of marriage we lived in a studio flat in southeast London. Like most newlyweds, we struggled to make ends meet. Besides my day job in the city, I managed to supplement my income in the evenings by selling cocaine in pubs in and around my local area. Trouble is, Julie and I seemed to snort all the profits ourselves rather than turn it into liquid cash.
My Julie can fuck like a trooper at the best of times, but, believe me, get a few lines of coke up her nose and she’s bouncing around the bedroom like the energiser bunny – there’s no stopping her. It makes me wonder if I married a nymphomaniac.
Julie is a real giggly and immature girl who loves being centre of attention. She has auburn hair, a magnificent tight little body and beautifully firm tits topped with super-sensitive, pink nipples. She is sex on legs and loves to flaunt her body, especially in front of the camera. Given the chance, she would pose and pout in the nude for the camera all day long.
My iPad was full of pictures and videos of Julie posing in sexy lingerie, me fucking her in various positions, playing with sex toys and sucking my cock. There were also a few where she was wearing thigh-high boots and an open-crotch pair of panties that showed off her shaven snatch to perfection. She would do open-leg shots, fuck herself with a cucumber, everything you can imagine. She was a naughty little minx. The iPad in question never left the flat, so she felt safe in the knowledge that only I would see the results.
It was a Monday. Julie and I were at work and I’d left my iPad on the coffee table inside our flat. Upon my return home that afternoon, I had the shock of my life. Our landlord, Mr Hardman, had let himself into the flat and was sitting on my couch, as nonchalant as you like, browsing through the files on my iPad.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, dropping my workbag to the floor.
“Steady on, pal,” he growled. “I’m just here to fix the leaky tap. You were aware that I was coming today. I spoke to Julie on the phone.”
Julie had told me but I’d forgotten.
“Bit of all right, your missus,” he sneered. “Wouldn’t mind a bit of that myself.”
I snatched the iPad from his grasp and shoved it in my pocket.
Mr Hardman was a nasty piece of work, not someone you want to get on the wrong side of. He was not only my landlord but also my cocaine supplier. In his mid fifties and a professional criminal, he’d devoted his life to selling drugs. With the proceeds he had invested in property, which he rented out to poor schmucks like me.
At over six feet tall, Hardman was a large man with an intimidating appearance and a fat belly. He was an old bastard and had a baldhead that always seemed to be sheened in sweat. I would see Mr Hardman twice a month – once to collect the rent and once to drop off half an ounce of cocaine for me to sell and pick up the cash from my previous supply. More often than not, he’d arrive with a couple of heavies in tow, usually black lads built like brick shit houses – but today he was alone.
He stood up, his bulking frame blocking out the light from the far window, and whispered in my ear, “If ever your missus wants a real man, you know where to find me.”
I never told Julie what had happened that day. She would have been devastated to learn that fat, nasty old Mr Hardman had seen our most private and intimate media collection. Though after that day, whenever Hardman came to collect his money, he would blatantly ogle Julie’s legs and tits. She brought it on herself really. Julie insists on sauntering around the house with bare feet and legs at all times. And they look dead sexy, enough to turn any man’s head.
“Dirty old git,” she said, after one of Hardman’s visits. “He really gives me the creeps. Always staring at my body.”
A couple of months after that, disaster struck. Julie was made redundant from her job and I fucked up big time with my supply of coke. The police raided my local pub and I was in there holding six grams of cocaine. I had to flush it all down the toilet, leaving me seriously out of pocket and unable to pay Hardman.
So with no income or savings, we were up shit creek without a paddle, so to speak.
As expected, Hardman turned up that Friday night with a couple of heavies in tow. He listened to my tale of woe, nodding his head and rubbing his chin, feigning concern for my predicament.
“Tell you what,” Hardman replied. “I’ll give you till next Friday to come up with my readies. If you can’t pay, in full, I’ll have my lads take all your possessions for me to sell. And you can pack your bags and find somewhere else to live. Now I can’t say fairer than that, can I?” He got up, squeezed Julie’s leg and left the house.
Julie sneered at him and mouthed “pervert” behind his back as he walked out the door.
Over the following week, we tried everything – friends, family, selling a few possessions, but, come the next Friday, we hadn’t even raised half of what we owed Hardman.
We were waiting in nervous anticipation when he turned up Friday night. He only had one heavy in tow, a big black bloke called Leroy.
"Well," he said after we told him we didn't have his money. "Looks like you're in the shit then, doesn't it.” He turned to his heavy. “Leroy, go get the motor and load the hi-fi and the TV."
Leroy disappeared and Julie started to cry.
"Hey, pretty girl. Don’t cry," he said, standing over her. "Tell you what, maybe there is a way you can stay here, keep your stuff and clear your debts."
Julie stropped crying and we both stared at him anxiously.
"Now, I don't know if your husband told you, but I’ve seen pictures of you all dressed up in those stockings and crotch-less knickers, and I like what I saw. Know what I’m saying?"
Julie looked at him then me. "What the hell does he mean?" she snapped.
“Sorry, Julie, I know I should have told you." I explained to her what had happened with the photographs on the iPad.
"You did fucking what?" She was absolutely furious.
"Hey, remember me? I’m still here," Hardman interjected. " Now, here’s my proposal. I get to do whatever I like with your missus once a week until you’ve cleared the debt. That way the rents paid and you’ve still got a roof over your head.
Tell you what. I'll finish my rounds while you think it over. If you agree, then I want her dressed in those stockings and that fancy underwear when I come back. Ready for a good old fuck session. See you both in about two hours."
We both sat in stunned silence after he left. I was lost for words.
"What we gonna do?" Julie snapped. "There’s no way fat boy’s fucking me."
"Look, why don't we chuck what we can in the car and do a runner," I suggested.
"We can't just walk away and leave all our stuff. And where are we gonna go? What do we do? You expect us to live in the car?" She burst into tears again.
“Surely you’re not going to let him fuck you?" I groaned, incredulous.
"I’m not going to stand by and let him take everything we've worked for. I’m gonna have to grin and bear it. Look, it's only once a week. He's an old, fat bastard. I bet he won’t last longer than five minutes. You’ve always said you’d like to see me with another man. Well here’s your chance.”
That was true. It had been a fantasy of mine, one we'd discussed a few times but Hardman was not the type I had in mind.
Without further discussion, she stormed of into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. When she came out half hour later, my eyes nearly popped out my head and I got an instant hard-on. She looked absolutely amazing.
She’d tarted herself with make up, black eye shadow and red lipstick. And she was wearing a frilly bra and crotch-less panties. Her large breasts were heaving up and down and her pussy lips were clearly protruding through the open-crotch panties.
"So you’re gonna go through with this?" I asked, my mouth gaping.
"No, I'm going out to the shops to buy some smokes," she replied sarcastically.
I was dumbfounded.
Julie continued, "Look, when he comes back I’ll give him a quick fuck, then fuck him off. I'm going to insist that you stay while his fucking me, otherwise the deals off.”
My heart was in mouth and my hands were sweating. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was so surreal.
We sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity until there was a knock at the door. Julie ran to the bedroom while I let Hardman in.
