The Landlord

I found my current living situation by answering an ad on craigslist. “Roommate wanted: prefer gay male, open minded, sex positive, 420 friendly. Private bathroom and office area, internet included.” I was gay, open minded, sex positive, and whatever 420 meant, I would probably be fine with it. The outside of the house was Victorian, though the inside had been modernized with large rooms and two floors that were now each apartment units. The room I was hoping to rent was in the bottom apartment which already had one tenant; the landlord lived in the upper half. The house was built on a slight hill and was surrounded by tall trees with large overhang and enough shrubs and plants to make the house seem almost hidden from the street as well as the neighbors on either side. In back, there was a large, rich garden surrounded by a high wooden fence stained a dark brown. It truly seemed as if in the middle of suburbia someone had built a house straight out of a fairytale. I fell in love with the place immediately.

The landlord, Martin, met me on the steps not with a handshake, but instead a bear hug. He was a little over 6 feet tall with thinning brown hair and a large but neatly trimmed red beard. His button-up dress shirt fit tightly over what seemed well developed arms and opened slightly in front over a furry beer belly that made him look about 5 months pregnant. The shirt seemed almost out of place set against a pair of cut-off sweatpants which hung loosely from his waist. His legs were long and hairy with thick calves which ended with rather ample-sized feet strapped into what I was certain were decade-old Birkenstocks. The two things that stood out above all, however, were his wide, green eyes with a gaze so intense they seemed to be able to see right through you, and protruding from the front of his sweats was a massive lump that made it hard to look elsewhere when talking with him.

Taking me inside, he introduced me to my potential roommate Stanley aka Stefan aka Ivana S’more. “His name is Stanley, but he uses Stefan for his clients and does drag shows on the weekends as Ivana,” Martin explained once we were sitting in his upstairs living room.

“Clients?” I asked confused.

“He’s a sex worker. But his clientele is strictly corporate, so you don’t have to worry about street thugs or anything.”

My mind spun around for several moments before I heard the words pop out of my mouth, “He’s a hooker?”

Martin’s expression became momentarily unreadable. “Sex worker. Hookers work the streets, Stefan has an agent and an exclusive client list.”

All I could think of was Charlie Sheen visiting the house to get his groove on.

“I see that’s going to be a problem,” said Martin, looking disappointed.

“No,” I said so suddenly that I surprised myself. “No … I was just – it’s cool.” I wasn’t sure he was convinced, but he moved on with the interview anyway.

“So you’re 420 friendly?”

“Yes.”

“Do you indulge?”

“Uh … sometimes?” I questioned, now certain he was onto me.

He stared at me with those piercing green eyes and sat back in the chair sizing me up. By leaning back, he gave me full view of the monster that had to be lurking in his pants; I had never seen the front of someone’s pants stand out that much and I could barely stop myself from staring at it.

Finally he said, “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Before I could even attempt an answer he leaned forward, his eyes searching mine. “Look, I don’t judge people,” he told me, his voice firm, but kind. “All I ask for is complete honesty.” I must have turned a bright red as I felt my face flush and my palms begin to sweat, but also felt what had to have been a slight sense of relief. “So let’s try this again,” he said, shifting in his seat and letting his pleasant smile appear once more. “Are you 420 friendly?”

“I – don’t know what that means,” I said in my best grown-up voice.

“Marijuana.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “Yes. And no, I don’t use it, but I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Good,” he said, more at my honesty than my answer.

“And do you have a problem with your roommate being a sex worker?”

I thought about it for a moment before I answered, “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I guess I just have some questions about it.”

We talked for almost an hour, after which he told me he thought I would be a good fit for the place, although there was one final thing I should know. He stood up, removed his shirt and said, “I’m a naturalist, and I spend a lot of time in the garden out back. You gonna be okay with that?”

“A naturalist? So you grow all your own food or – ”

He let out a loud laugh. “Nah, it means I’m a nudist.” With that, he hooked his thumbs in his sweatpants and dropped them to the floor. He stood there in nothing but his Birkenstocks. Three feet from my face was the largest flaccid cock I had ever seen. It had to be thicker than a Red Bull can and about the length of one and a half of them together. It was surrounded by a patch of wild pubic hair and hung down over a set of average sized balls that looked practically dwarfed next to the size of his johnson.

“So is it going to be a problem?” he asked following my obvious stare.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and when I opened them again, looked him directly in the face. “Not a bit.” We shook hands and a week later I moved in.

Despite the seemingly sexual overtones of my first meeting with Martin, life at the “The Manor,” as he liked to call it, was serene. I would occasionally bump into one of Stefan’s clients wandering through the house nude while looking for the bathroom, and from my bedroom window I could often see Martin working in the garden wearing nothing more than sandals and gloves.

Several weeks ago I went up to Martin’s to deliver my rent check. He met me at the door in his usual state: naked and slightly buzzed from pot. This time however, he also had a raging hard-on. I had never seen his crotch-monster at its full glory before and it was a sight to behold. It stood about 6 inches in front of his beer belly and had one of the most beautifully shaped heads I had ever seen. He welcomed me with his usual bear hug, his cock sliding up against my stomach. Though my mind was telling me it was just Martin, my body responded to the feel of his hard dick and raised my own to full mast inside my pants. When he let go and took a step back, I looked down to see a strand of heavy precum still connecting us. It was then I noticed in just the few seconds he had held me that he had left a sizable wet spot on my shirt. He followed my gaze and, giggling, apologized.

“Here, let me get it off,” he said taking a step closer. I expected him to rub at it or get a wet sponge and dab it off. Instead, he moved down to one knee and started to use his tongue. He spent almost a full minute with his face pressed into my stomach, his tongue dancing up and down the wet spot making it larger and making my dick harder with his unexpected closeness. Then as suddenly as he had started, he stopped and stood up, flashing me a large grin.

“So what’s up?” he asked in his normal nonchalant manner.

“I wanted to drop off the rent,” I managed to get out.

“Cool.” He took my check and placed in on a nearby desk. “Man, I’m havin’ a head rush. I had a couple hits earlier and popped a Viagra ’cause my friend Tim was comin’ over. He stood me up and now – ” He thwacked his penis with the back of his hand. “Thing won’t go down.” He laughed at himself.

I couldn’t stop from staring at it; I had never seen a dick as large as his, outside of a porn movie. A bead of clear precum quickly formed over his piss slit and ran down the underside of his shaft. I looked up from his cock to see his green eyes focused on me and a wide grin stretching across his bearded face. He took a few clumsy steps to his couch and threw himself down on his back, then took his fingers and moved them up his shaft pushing out an ample amount of precum. He scooped it onto his fingers, raised them to his mouth and sucked them clean. Again he looked at me and grinned.

He moved his head slightly, motioning me to come over. I hesitated for a moment, then crossed to him, my eyes moving back and forth between his face and his cock which he was now stroking slowly between his thumb and first two fingers. With his free hand, he reached out and took my wrist and pulled down, signaling me to get to my knees beside the couch. He then placed his hand gently on the back of my head and pulled my face down close to his fat dick. He pointed it at my mouth and waited, not making any effort to coerce me to go further. At that point, however, I needed no coercing. I was enraptured by the size of it as well as the musky smell rising from his body.

I moved forward and took the head of his one-eyed monster into my mouth. Immediately I felt a rush of precum leak onto my tongue as he moaned gratefully. I suctioned my mouth to his knob and began moving my tongue in circles on the underside of his dickhead. He began to whimper, his hips bucking upward and his hand falling to my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. I tried to move my mouth further down on him, but to my surprise found I wasn’t able to without scraping him with my teeth; his dick was so thick I could only get the head of it past my lips. He moaned again, his fingers continuing to move slowly up and down his shaft as I worked the head with my tongue. I then licked and kissed my way down to his balls and took them one by one into my mouth.

“Hell, yeah!” he said, his hand tightening on my shoulder. I worked his balls for several minutes, while he kept telling me how good it felt. Then he asked, “Hey, can you take this?”

I pulled back, looking at his massive manmeat, then shook my head with a slight smile. His grin remained as he nodded his understanding. He sat up, hooked his fingers through the loops of my pants and stood me up. Then just as quickly, he popped the snap on my pants and pulled them to the floor, exposing my own leaking, hard prick. I stepped out of my shoes and pants, wondering if he was going to blow me. Instead, he reached for a nearby bottle of lube, and dumping a large amount into his hand began rubbing it over my crotch, between my legs and into my ass. Laying back, he squeezed another large handful onto himself, rubbing it over his cock, balls and into his pubes and crack.

Tossing the bottle aside, he leaned up, took both my hands and pulled me on top of him. He laid his dick flat and maneuvered me so that I was straddling him with his cock pressing against his lubed-up stomach and pretty much the entire length of my asscrack to halfway up my dick shaft. With his hands positioned on my hips he began pulling and pushing me back and forth, sliding me over his huge cock. Now understanding what he was doing, I picked up his rhythm and began grinding on his large tool. He put his arms behind his head and laid there watching me rub against him.

I soon stopped paying attention to the moans escaping his throat and I began focusing on my own feelings of pleasure, which were quickly intensifying. My hands found their way up over his hair-covered stomach and chest as I leaned forward to brace myself against our increasing movement. His massive rod was stimulating every hot spot I had below, rubbing against my hole, my balls, my hard prick and back again; it was enough to make me wish I had the skill to take him inside of me, but our frottage alone was making my entire body course with rising orgasmic energy.

“I’m gonna blow soon,” he announced in a low, breathy voice.

His hands found my hips once more as mine dug into his furry belly. We began moving in a unified rhythm; as I slid back, he pushed his hips upward, causing the friction between us to intensify. My impending orgasm was building with each stroke; my asscheeks now tightened on his shaft each time I slid forward and my dick jumped and twitched as it rubbed against him. Martin let out several loud, short moans. “Uh … uuuhhh … holy shi-” was all he managed to get out before I looked down to see a large jet of his cum shoot out onto his stomach. The next blast released under my balls, the third on my dick, which was enough to send me over that final edge. I let out a loud yell of release as my body shook and my dick jerked upward, sending a large stream of seed over Martin’s midriff and onto his face. Then each successive blast left a train down the center of his chest and stomach leading back to my throbbing cock.

I was still trying to catch my breath when Martin began moving under me once more. His hands holding my hips down hard against him and his eyes closed, he fucked his still rock hard dick against me with twice the force he had used moments ago. He began making loud grunting noises as his thrusts got more intense. I let him have full control, watching his face contort as he seemed to be nearing another climax. His mouth opened and his tongue came out, licking off a small strand of my cum which made his bucking hips slam even harder into me. I took my fingers and ran them down his stomach, scooping a good amount of my cum from his furry skin, and then placed it, along with my fingers, between his parted lips. He licked my cum from my fingers, let out an intense moan and then drew my digits into his mouth.

His large cock sliding between my legs at a speed that threatened to bounce me off of him had it not been for his large, strong hands holding me in place, I could sense he was going to come a second time. I took my fingers from his mouth, found a pool of wetness where his and my cum had mixed together, scooped it up and placed it and my fingers back in his hungry mouth. As I did, he let out an intense yell and began coming a second time. I looked down to see cum leaking out of his gaping piss slit. Gasping for breath, it took him some time to come back to reality. When he did, he looked up at me with those bright green eyes and a pleased grin crossed his face.

“Now there’s something you can write about,” he laughed.

I couldn’t help but smile as he gave me another squishy bear hug, which I happily returned. I headed out the back and down to my bathroom to shower. While cleaning lube and cum off myself I remembered the feeling of his massive tool rubbing against me and the safe, warm feeling of his hugs and jerked my dick to another intense orgasm. If possible, I now loved living at The Manor even more!