The rain pattered against the cobblestone streets as Eimi Isami's worn boots squelched with every step she took. Her once vibrant backpack looked like a sad, soggy sponge, the straps digging painfully into her shoulders. She'd been walking for hours, her mind racing with the same question: How the fuck did she end up here?

Turning a corner, she spotted a dimly lit sign above a narrow doorway, promising "No-Hassle Apartments." The neon lights flickered, casting a sickly glow across the puddles. Desperation painted a silver lining around the words, and she took it as a sign. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten all day. She pushed open the door and stepped into the warm, dry lobby, her eyes immediately drawn to the plush leather couches and gleaming chrome fixtures.

Behind a gleaming desk sat a woman who looked as out of place as a rose in a dumpster. Runie Ruse was the landlady, and she had an air of authority that was as palpable as the scent of her expensive perfume. Her crimson-painted nails clicked against the keyboard, and she barely looked up when Eimi shuffled closer. "You're here to see the apartment, I take it?" Runie's voice was as smooth as honey, yet it had a bite to it that made Eimi's cheeks flush.

"Yes," Eimi murmured, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Runie's eyes raked over her, taking in the wet clothes and the art supplies peeking out from the backpack. A smirk played on her lips as she stood up, her lithe form moving with a grace that belied her age. "Let's go then," she said, leading Eimi to the elevator.

The elevator felt like a cage that was closing in on them, the air thick with unspoken tension. Runie's crimson nails danced across the buttons, each digit pressing down with a deliberate force that seemed to echo the thrumming of Eimi's heart. The space was so tight that the young artist could feel the warmth radiating from the landlady's body, and she found herself acutely aware of every movement, every breath. Runie's hand hovered near the panel, and every time she reached to push a button, Eimi felt a phantom brush against her lower back, sending a jolt of electricity down her spine. She swore she could feel the heat of those long fingers just a whisper away from her ass, but when she glanced over, the older woman's hand was always innocently by her side.

The apartment was a stark contrast to the lobby, a sleek, modern space that seemed to beckon Eimi to shed her wet clothes and sink into the luxurious couch. She couldn't help but feel like a stray cat that had wandered into a penthouse. As Runie guided her from room to room, her hand kept finding its way to the small of Eimi's back, a light touch that sent shivers through her chubby frame. The flirty banter grew more explicit, the innuendos less subtle, and Eimi's cheeks burned as she tried to focus on the amenities rather than the way her body was responding. She caught a glimpse of a glint in Runie's eye that made her stomach flip, and she knew she wasn't imagining the woman's intentions.

Once the tour was over, Runie handed her a set of keys with a knowing smile. "You can stay here for a week," she said, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. "If you decide it's the right fit for you, we'll talk about the rent." The unspoken promise hung in the air, thick with the scent of their shared desire.

Eimi's heart raced as she stepped into the empty apartment, the door clicking shut behind her. She took a shaky breath, reaching into her backpack for her pipe and the small bag of weed she had stashed away. She needed to calm down, to make sense of the tumultuous emotions crashing through her like a storm-tossed sea. She lit up, the sweet, familiar scent wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. As the first tendrils of smoke curled into her lungs, she felt the tension ease from her shoulders, her mind swimming in a warm, fuzzy haze.

The apartment was eerily quiet, the only sound the muffled patter of rain against the windows. She moved through the rooms, her eyes glazed over with the beginnings of a high, her body feeling both weightless and hyper-sensitive. Runie's touches replayed in her mind, each one a phantom caress that left her skin tingling. The kitchen gleamed with stainless steel, the bedroom with its pristine white sheets whispering of untold decadence. The bathroom was like a temple, the large tub beckoning her with the promise of a long, hot soak.

Eimi found herself in the living room, the plush carpet enveloping her feet like a lover's embrace. She couldn't resist the urge to collapse onto the couch, her body feeling like it was made of jelly. Her hand slipped into her sweatpants, her fingers finding their way to her clit, which was already pulsing with need. She bit her lip, her cheeks burning as she remembered Runie's knowing glances and the way her eyes had lingered on her curves. It had to be her imagination—nobody like that could possibly want someone like her.

With trembling hands, she pulled out her pipe and took a deep drag. The potent smoke filled her lungs, sending her spiraling into a vortex of desire and doubt. Her mind conjured up images of Runie's slender fingers tracing patterns on her bare skin, her sharp tongue whispering commands into her ear. She closed her eyes, her breaths coming in shallow pants as she began to masturbate, her chubby fingers working in a frenzied rhythm. She couldn't help but feel like a fraud, her body betraying her as it responded so eagerly to the thoughts of the woman who had just shown her around.

Her eyes snapped open as she heard a noise from the hallway. Panic set in—what if Runie had returned? What if she had been watching all along? Her hand froze mid-stroke as she listened, the only sound the thundering of her heart. She waited, her breath held, but there was only silence. The high made her paranoid, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being observed. With trembling hands, she shucked off her damp clothes, dropping them in a pile on the floor.

Standing naked in front of the floor-length mirror, she scrutinized her reflection. Her breasts, heavy and full, jiggled with every breath she took. The flab around her belly spilled over her waistband, and her thighs were a testament to the comfort food she'd been surviving on. But as her eyes traveled back up to her face, she saw a spark of defiance in her own gaze. Maybe she wasn't the type of girl Runie would want, but she was here, and she wasn't about to let her insecurities ruin the one good thing that had come her way in a long time.

Her hand found its way back to her clit, her other hand gripping the edge of the couch for balance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the high wash over her as she began to pleasure herself again. Her strokes grew more urgent, her body responding to the fantasy of Runie's hand replacing her own. The sound of the rain outside grew louder in her ears, a rhythmic backdrop to the slap of her palm against her flesh. She bit her bottom lip, her teeth sinking into the plumpness as she choked on a moan. The idea of Runie watching her, using her, was too much to handle. She felt the beginnings of another orgasm building, and this time, she didn't hold back.

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her breaths coming in ragged pants. The sight of her own body, usually a source of insecurity, was now a canvas of desire. She watched as her hand moved, her chubby fingers sliding over her slick folds. Her mind reeled with the idea of Runie's hand taking its place, those cold, precise digits bringing her to the brink again and again. She slapped her own thigh, the sound echoing through the empty room. It wasn't enough. She needed more.

With a growl of frustration, Eimi climbed onto the couch, her ass jiggling as she positioned herself in front of the mirror. She spread her legs wide, her hand a blur as she rubbed her clit vigorously. Her other hand reached up, squeezing her breast, her thumb flicking at the hardened nipple. She could feel the heat building, her body begging for release. The room spun around her, the high from the weed mixing with the intense arousal that had taken over.

Her eyes searched the reflection, looking for any sign that she was being watched. The thought of Runie seeing her like this, vulnerable and needy, made her even wetter. She panted, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. The sound of the rain grew more intense, mimicking the crescendo building inside her. Her hand moved faster, her body arching off the couch as she chased the elusive orgasm.

The apartment door clicked open, and the scent of Runie's perfume wafted into the room. Eimi's heart stopped. She froze, her hand hovering above her sex, her eyes wide with shock. "I forgot to mention the no smoking policy," Runie said from the doorway, her voice as smooth as velvet-covered steel. "But it seems you've already made yourself quite comfortable."

Eimi's mind raced. She was busted—the weed was a no-go. She looked up, meeting Runie's piercing gaze in the mirror. The older woman's eyes were dark with lust, her smile predatory. "I'm sorry," Eimi stuttered, scrambling to pull her clothes on. But Runie was quicker, crossing the room and plucking the pipe from her trembling hand.

"You don't get to decide when the fun starts and stops," Runie purred, her breath reeking of alcohol. "And it looks like you've already started without me." She took a long, lingering sniff of the pipe before tucking it into her pocket. "Now, let's see what kind of art you're really good at."

With a surprising show of strength, Runie yanked Eimi to her feet, the younger woman's breasts bouncing from the sudden movement. Eimi's knees trembled, but she didn't resist. Instead, she felt a strange thrill at the landlady's dominance, a thrill that sent a hot pulse straight to her core. Runie's eyes were like ice, but Eimi could feel the heat behind them, the hunger that matched her own.

"Stay," Runie ordered, and Eimi found herself obeying, her body on display in the mirror. The older woman stepped closer, the scent of alcohol heavy on her breath. Eimi's heart raced as Runie's hand reached out, her slender fingers brushing over the plump mounds of her breasts. The gentle squeeze sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she couldn't help but moan. Runie's eyes glinted in the mirror, and she smirked. "I can see you like that," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "But let's not forget who's in charge here."

Her hand moved down to Eimi's belly, and she began to rub slow, sensual circles around her navel. The touch was both foreign and exhilarating, sending a rush of heat through her body. Runie's eyes never left hers in the reflection, her gaze as intoxicating as the whiskey on her breath. "You're mine for the week," she said, her voice a low growl. "And I intend to make sure you don't forget it."

The hand on Eimi's belly slid lower, teasing the waistband of her sweatpants. She sucked in a sharp breath as Runie's fingers dipped inside, her eyes never leaving the mirror. The fabric was damp with her desire, and she felt a thrill as the older woman's hand brushed against her clit. "Look at you," Runie taunted, her voice thick with lust. "You're already wet for me."

Eimi's cheeks burned as Runie pulled her hand away, leaving her desperately needy. "I...I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice a whisper. "It won't happen again." But she knew it was a lie, and the smirk on the landlady's face told her she knew it too.

Runie leaned in, her teeth grazing Eimi's earlobe, whispering a challenge, "Prove to me how much you want this apartment, and I might just consider giving you a...discount." The words sent a shiver down Eimi's spine, and she felt a thrill of fear and excitement mingle with her arousal. She knew what Runie wanted, what she was hinting at, and she couldn't deny the part of her that craved it. The authority in Runie's tone, the way she claimed control, it was like a drug, and Eimi was desperate for more.

Turning to face the landlady, Eimi's eyes dropped to the floor. She felt the weight of the woman's stare, her body pulsing with anticipation. "I'll do anything," she murmured, her voice barely audible. Runie's smile grew, her eyes lighting up with victory.

The older woman reached out and traced a finger along Eimi's jawline, tilting her head back so she could look into the younger woman's eyes. "Anything?" she repeated, her tone mocking. Eimi nodded, her eyes never leaving Runie's. The room was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, desire, confusion—but she was powerless to resist.

With a sudden jerk, Runie yanked Eimi's sweatpants down, revealing her plump, naked body. "On your knees," she ordered, her voice dripping with dominance. Eimi's legs trembled as she complied, her heart racing as she felt the cool air on her exposed skin. She knew what was coming next—what she had fantasized about for years—and she was both terrified and exhilarated by the reality of it.

Runie stepped back, her crimson nails tapping against her thigh. "Open your mouth," she instructed, a glint of amusement in her eyes. Eimi obeyed, her mouth dry with anticipation. With a cruel smile, Runie unzipped her own pants and pulled out her sex, glistening with arousal. "You're going to drink every drop," she said, her voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down Eimi's spine.

Eimi's eyes went wide with shock as Runie began to pee, the warm stream hitting her face before she could close her mouth. She choked, the salty taste of the older woman's desire filling her senses. But as the liquid trickled down her chin and onto her chest, something strange happened. A kink she didn't even know she had began to unfurl deep within her, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her clit.

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Pub: 02 Jun 2025 06:07 UTC
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