Lev the Landlord

Lev, my landlord and I had settled on a deal where I got to wash his sweaty used clothes in return for.. well, nothing, really. And more and more it wasn’t just washing and ironing. I’d somehow started making his breakfast at the same time as I got his clothes ready in the morning. And of course like any gay guy living with a straight man it was my job to clean up after him – do the dishes, clean the bathroom. Sometimes he said thank you. More often he swore at me when I didn’t have things how he liked them.

It went on that like that for a few weeks. Then, a Friday in the middle of August, things changed again. What caused it was a girl coming round: one of Lev’s irregular opportunities to fuck.

Lev didn’t have a girlfriend. He wasn’t the most exciting guy, and while I don’t think he found it that difficult to pull, the girls didn’t tend to come back. The result was that he got laid in a one-night stand about once every couple of months.

I don’t know where he’d found the girl that night. I was out in a restaurant with my brother Olly and his girlfriend when the phone rang. It was about 9:30. On the other end was Lev, as usual for a Friday night sounding at least slightly drunk.

“Sam, I’m bringing a girl back.”

I wasn’t sure why he was telling me. “Yeah, great Lev, I’ll see you later. I’ll stay out of your way.”

He replied, “No man. My room. Needs cleaning.”

“Lev, I’m out too, not at home.”

There was pause like he didn’t understand. And then, an angry, “Fuck!”

And then quietly, so I could hear but he could kind of deny it, “Faggot.”

I should have put the phone down. But I was like a puppy when it came to Lev. He could kick me and I’d just want it more. Now, instead having dinner out, enjoying myself, I wanted to do what I was told: get things set up so Lev could fuck some girl. I sighed. “OK, I’ll head back.”

“That’s good Sam,” he said, sounding relieved, but not particularly grateful, and then the conversation had ended.

I made some poor excuse of feeling ill to Olly, left the restaurant and was soon stood in Lev’s bedroom, wondering where to start. I’d not been in his room before but he lived like a teenager so I knew what to expect.

The first thing I did was open the window. The stink was bad. It was the adolescent mix of cum and sweat and dirty trainers, made worse by the fact Lev wasn’t a smooth skinned kid, but a massive, hairy, sweaty guy well into 30s.

The next priority was the bed. His sheet was just one giant, stiff cum stain. I guess it was no surprise he wanked a lot; he was a fit guy with no girlfriend, it was normal.

I pulled the sheet off, changed it for a clean one from my room and set about picking up the clothes and shoes and socks from the floor. I vacuumed, tidied up the piles of half assembled computers and home gym weights that filled up most of the corners.

By the time Lev got back with his girl, I’d finished and shut myself in my room. I didn’t want to meet her. There was lots of laughter, then quiet, then some confused grunting, little screams, giggling. It didn’t take long and was all pretty much as I expected.

What I hadn’t anticipated was – after the giggling had quietened down - a knock on my door. Lev, naked apart from a small towel round his waist was grinning at me unsteadily. He stepped close to me, my eyes were level with the hair at the top of his thick chest. He was still panting slightly from his fuck and I could see a layer of sweat on his skin.

“You did a good job tidying up Sam,” he said.

“I got you a present.”

And he held up the condom that he’d obviously just finished fucking with.

He really did cum a lot. It was about half full. But I didn’t get to look at it long.

He grabbed me by the hair, pulled my head back with one hand. With the other he squeezed the still warm liquid out of the condom and rubbed it over my face. I just had time to hope that the hand he was using hadn’t just been inside the girl before I was once again drugged: only able to think about the warm scent and sour taste of his seed that was on my lips, under my nose as well as covering my cheeks, eyelids, was in my hair.

He dropped the condom on the floor and went back to his room and the girl.

I went to the mirror and had enough sense to take a picture of my face literally dripping with his jizz. Then I lay on the bed, took a blob off my chin and used it lubricate my cock as I started to wank. And as I jerked off, I slowly, slowly scraped every other bit of Lev’s warm thick cum off my face and into my mouth.

Finished wanking, my stomach full of my landlord’s semen while my own dried on my belly, I slept well that night. I was only briefly disturbed by the noise from Lev’s room as he went in for a second round with the girl.

I got up about 9 and went to go for a piss. But I couldn’t open my bedroom door. I soon realised the door handle had a lock on it that I’d never noticed. Lev, wanting the house to himself, had locked me in.

As I waited to be let out, I could hear easily what was going on. After breakfast the girl was going to leave, but he whispered something and ended up fucking her again, standing up in the corridor next to the front door. In that small house, that was also right by my bedroom door. I sat on my bed listening to his grunts, my dick hard as iron as I imagined his muscular, hairy arse pumping into her.

She left after that and a few minutes later Lev unlocked and opened my door. He pointed to the condom on the floor of the corridor. “When you’ve finished with that, you can tidy up the kitchen.” He disappeared into the living room, a few seconds later I heard the sound of his PS4 starting up.

I kind of realised that was the end of any respect he was going to show me. Over the last few hours he’d fed me his used condoms and locked me up when he didn’t want me around. It was obvious that from now on he was going to treat me however the fuck he liked.

The new regime started almost immediately.

Saturday was his chilling day: the one day of the week he didn’t go to the gym. Instead - every Saturday since I’d moved in – he’d spent the day on his PS4, dressed in an old T-shirt and boxers, sprawled in his big chair in the living room.

The chair was lined up facing a huge TV screen mounted the wall. I wasn’t allowed in the living room – it was Lev’s room - but through the glass door I could see the back of his chair, the screen and his progress through the games.

Today, for the first time, he left the door open as he gamed, filling the house with the sound of in-game gunfire, the groans of dying on-screen enemies.

And, twice, he switched the screen from the playstation to porn, videos of slim young women getting roughly and repeatedly fucked in both holes. Though I couldn’t see him, only the back of his chair, he apparently didn’t care that I could see exactly what he was watching, hear him grunt as he wanked. He didn’t care that when he shouted at me to bring him a beer, shortly after he’d shot his second load, that I’d see the streaks of fresh cum down his vest and boxers and could smell the lingering scent of his hard on.

At 6 oc'lock, he went to shower, put on clean clothes and went out with his mates. The musky, sweaty, cum soaked boxers he’d worn all day lay on the floor of the bathroom, ready for me to lick clean.