I met Selena in my freshman year of college. We got to know each other after being in many of the same classes together. Over time, overnight studies as students became romantic evenings as lovers. It wasn’t before long where I bent down on one knee and proposed to the girl of my dreams. I knew I could never meet another woman like her. I didn’t deserve her, and the day she agreed to marry me was the best day of my life.

We decided to get a small place together, but on the day of the move, we found out our unit had already been rented out via an administrative error. Needing a place to stay on short notice, we placed all our belongings in storage. A room was advertised on Craigslist. It was an older house from the Victorian era with razor-thin walls. However, the house was in a safe suburb, the rent was cheap, and it came furnished, so we took it. The plan was to remain there until Selena and I figured out our next domestic step.

The owner lived in the house. His name was Hussein, a stocky white guy in his mid-forties who, I suspect, let us have the room because he couldn’t take his eyes of my hot girlfriend. I couldn’t blame him – Selena was the spitting image of the actress Emma Stone. I felt like Hussein looked down at me when he was with me, not because he was about 6’1 and I was 5’9, but because he didn’t think I was in my girlfriend’s league, at least that’s the vibe I got – he never actually said that to me.

Hussein talked to me like I was beneath him, especially when my girlfriend around. The weird thing was that Selena never came to my defense. Perhaps it’s because she wanted her man to step up for himself. Hussein would do things like wink at my girlfriend or give her a smile anytime he made me look like a dork in front of her, and it would always make her blush.

One day while I was washing dishes Hussein put his arm around me and explained the person who rented out our room was also responsible for the home’s cleanliness. I could have contested this bait and fish tactic, but I didn’t think we would be staying with him for long, so I agreed to clean up the place while we remained there. It seemed like a stand-up thing to do anyway, so I was happy to contribute.

My Girlfriend Cheated on Me With Our Landlord
More pics of Uma Jolie see “Teen Pies: Creampie Business Plan“.

My Landlord Wanted to Fuck My Girlfriend

Hussein and my girlfriend got friendlier with each other a little more each day. His relationship with me didn’t evolve the same way – if anything, he treated me with more disrespect in spite of my efforts to keep his house clean. In fact, my janitorial skills were so good that the house was cleaner than it was when we moved in! Nonetheless, Hussein didn’t talk to me in a friendly way or even with respect ever. When he spoke to me, it was very authoritative, always instructional. It didn’t bother me, though.

When Hussein saw me do something else besides clean the house, he would assign duties to me. It was as if I was a slacker because I wasn’t scrubbing the floors if he were to pass me by. He had no idea how hard I worked to keep things tidy while he wasn’t around. The thing is, the more Hussein had me do, the more inferior I felt around him. He never threatened me, but there was disapproving looks or sighs whenever I didn’t do something to his satisfaction. For instance, once he sent me out to pick up his dry cleaning. When I returned empty handed because of a delay with the actual dry cleaners, he reacted as if it was my fault by calling me useless. When he saw me cook in his house, he reminded me that I was using up his electricity. I could have reminded him that the energy costs were part of the rental price, but instead, I promised him that for every meal I cooked for my girlfriend and me, I would also prepare for him as well. He seemed okay with that, and his approval meant the world to me, though I don’t know why.

Hussein roller-bladed to work each day, and one day asked me for help taking them off. I knelt in front my landlord while he sat in his office chair. He looked like a king the way he was positioned from where I was, and the smirk on his face told me this was something I might have to get used to. The whiff that came from his feet when I freed them up was overwhelming. Hussein laughed at my reaction to the stink from his large feet and began rubbing them on my face, making me fall to the floor. He got up and shoved his big toe right in my mouth. I looked up and saw that he was taking a picture. Laughing, he pulled his toe out of my mouth and told me to get started washing the bathroom. I told Hussein that I would have to do it another day as I had to get ready for my actual job. He gave me one look, and I instantly suggested that I would hustle and clean it before I left. Hussein instructed me not to do a shitty job, laughing at his bad pun. I hadn’t told my girlfriend about all the things Hussein was having me do – and doing to me – because I didn’t want to look like a wimp in her eyes. She didn’t need to know about my servitude to our landlord, or my bullying at his hands.

My Landlord Made Me Lick His Stinky Sweaty Feet
For more pics of Tyler Roding and Rafa Marco see “Hardkinks: Footstool Flatmate“.

I was walking home the next day and saw Hussein sitting in his SUV. His eyes were closed, his arm was resting on the open windowsill, his head was cocked back, and his mouth was emitting moans in slow motion. His eyes were closed when I walked past the van. I heard strange noises for a moment when I passed him, like someone was choking on something. Just as I got close to his window, Hussein’s eyes opened. His eyes met mine, and he kept his gaze on me while I walked passed him. He began talking with a smirk on his face. I had assumed he was talking to me.

“What did you say, Hussein?” I asked approaching the van.

“Don’t take one step closer,” Hussein warmed me. “Just go home and start dinner. I’m gonna be hungry after she’s done here.”

“When who’s done what?” I asked in confusion. Suddenly, a gagging noise emitted from his lap.

“Watch the teeth,” Hussein said looking down.

“What?!” I asked.

“Get the fuck outta here!” Hussein shooed me away. I immediately scurried away as per her his instruction.

It wasn’t unusual for me to come home and see our bed unmade, since my girlfriend and I worked – and therefore slept – at inconsistent hours, but there were times I would make the bed and find her silky underwear between the sheets. It was interesting that she started to wear sexier underwear after we moved into Hussein’s house, but didn’t think anything of it. I had just assumed she found a women’s store in the area that she loved. Sometimes there would be streams of wetness on the bed sheets – they were hard to see through. The last time it happened, I found a linear wet stream on my pillow that seemed to have hardened a little. In fact, it was crusty and looked like it had been left there for a few hours. I likened it to a layer of icing on a sugar doughnut.

I wanted to remind Hussein that he shouldn’t take me for granted, that I was more than willing to help around the house, but a little gratitude would go along way with me.

“I’m the only one contributing around here,” I said to Hussein while serving him dinner. I thought he would get angry with me for that comment and say something like “you can always leave” or something to that effect. Instead, he just laughed at me and said something cryptic.

“You’re not the only one,” He chuckled. “You both contribute in your own special way.”

I shrugged off his comment as nonsense and went to my room to make the bed, which seemed to get more warped with each passing day as if it was taking a pounding from a lot of movement. Neither my girlfriend or I was overweight, so I couldn’t deduce what we were doing to the bed that made it less sturdy.

I knew Hussein was getting laid while I was at work because I would find condom wrappers, bras, and panties in his bed when making it. I laughed to myself how Hussein was just as untidy as my girlfriend when it came to bed-making. I also noticed that the wall behind his headboards was dented. The headboards would have had to slam the walls with sufficient force frequently to leave such marks.

One day I came home early and heard Hussein’s bed shaking loudly from his room upstairs. The bed was shrieking on the hardwood flooring, like it was being moved in rapid thrusts. I realized Hussein was fucking the shit out of some girl upstairs, and the shouting and noise I was hearing made me hard as a rock. With my girlfriend nowhere to be found, I decided to rub one out listening to my landlord have sex above me.

My Girlfriend Confessed to Fucking Our Landlord in Our Bed
More pics of Uma Jolie see “Teen Pies: Creampie Business Plan“.

My Girlfriend Was Never Around Whenever I Heard My Landlord Fuck Upstairs

The next day I was scrubbing the toilet when in walked Hussein. He was talking to someone on the phone, walked up behind me, stood right over me, unzipped his pants, and began pissing while my hand was still in the toilet bowl. I tried to get out of the way, but Hussein held my head into position by stepping on the back of my neck. I was forced to kneel in front of the toilet as my landlord’s piss stream spouted above me. As he finished, the remainder of his piss fell from the toilet and onto my hair. Hussein yanked my t-shirt and wiped his hands on them, not even caring that he stretched the fabric by doing so. He left the bathroom and continued his phone conversation without missing a beat. He had no respect for me and treated me like the beta male I had become since moving in with him.

This was the straw that broke the camels back. I was a good sport about everything – I even allowed Hussein to place his bare foot on my face without fighting back. I knew what his feet tasted like. I knew what his piss smelled like. I was cooking and cleaning for the guy like I was his maid. I was not one for confrontation, so I sucked it up, but pissing over me while stepping on my head was not something I was going to endure again. I was afraid of Hussein, and I didn’t want my girlfriend to know about the ways he was bullying me, but enough was enough. I realized I was never going to have more courage to confront my bully of a landlord than at that moment, so I marched upstairs and pounded my fist on his door. I hit it hard enough to push it open, as the door was slightly ajar. Hussein’s company hadn’t let yet at all. The girl he was fucking was kneeling between his legs with a beer-can sized cock stuffed in her mouth. She was so fixated on pleasing her man that she had no idea her boyfriend was standing in the doorway watching her worship a giant penis, that is until Hussein tapped her on the head and pointed to me standing behind her.

Hussein had an ear-to-ear smile on his face with his hands behind his head. I think ordinarily he would have been beyond pissed if I had walked in on him with a woman. But he was laughing triumphantly at the scene in front of him. He hadn’t orchestrated this moment, but he might as well have.

“I believe you two have met,” Our landlord laughed before turning his head towards me. “See? She pulls her weight around here, too!”