The Landlord's Daughter

The knock came at 8 AM on a Saturday, which meant only one thing: rent was due. Tyler groaned, running a hand over his face before shuffling to the door in nothing but his boxer briefs.

He expected Mr. Garrison, his sixty-year-old landlord with the permanent scowl. Instead, he found himself face to face with a woman who stole every coherent thought from his brain.

"You must be Tyler." She smiled, full lips painted burgundy. "I'm Brianna. My father sent me to collect."

Brianna Garrison was a revelation. Where her father was thin and mean-looking, she was abundant and warm—thick thighs testing the limits of her pencil skirt, a silk blouse straining across breasts that could only be described as magnificent. Her brown skin glowed in the morning light, and her natural hair was pulled back in a puff that framed her round, pretty face.

"I, uh..." Tyler suddenly remembered he was nearly naked. "Give me a second—"

"Don't bother on my account." Her eyes drifted downward, and her smile widened. "Though I am here on business."

He grabbed a shirt from the couch, pulling it on as she stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. Her heels clicked against his hardwood floors as she surveyed his small apartment with an appraising eye.

"I don't have it," he admitted. "The full amount, I mean. My commission check got delayed. Another week, maybe—"

"My father doesn't do 'maybe.'" Brianna turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. "He's been looking for a reason to evict you. Says you play your music too loud."

"That was one time—"

"I believe you." She took a step closer. Then another. "The question is, what are we going to do about your... situation?"

Tyler's back hit the wall. Brianna didn't stop until she was pressed against him, all soft curves and expensive perfume. He could feel the heat of her through his thin shirt, the weight of her breasts against his chest.

"What did you have in mind?" His voice came out rougher than intended.

"Oh, I think you know." Her hand trailed down his stomach, fingertips dancing along the waistband of his boxers. "I've heard things about you, Tyler. From Mrs. Chen in 4B. From that pretty little thing who visits on weekends."

"That's my cousin—"

"I don't care who she is." Brianna's hand slipped lower, cupping him through the fabric. He was already hard, his body responding to her boldness with embarrassing eagerness. "What I care about is whether the rumors are true."

"What rumors?"

She squeezed, and Tyler groaned. "That you know how to treat a woman right."

He should've said no. Should've maintained some semblance of professional boundaries. But Brianna was already sinking to her knees, her thick fingers hooking into his waistband and pulling down to reveal him, hard and aching.

"My, my," she murmured, wrapping her hand around his length. "The rumors don't do you justice."

Her mouth was heaven—warm and wet and eager. She took him deep, her tongue doing things that made his knees weak. Tyler's hands found her hair, and she moaned around him, the vibration sending sparks up his spine.

"Wait," he gasped, pulling her back. "I want—let me—"

Brianna rose gracefully despite her size, a knowing smile on her swollen lips. "Want something?"

"You. On that bed. Now."

Something flashed in her eyes—respect, maybe, or desire. She walked to his bedroom without hesitation, hips swaying with each step. By the time he followed, she'd already stripped off her blouse, revealing a lace bra struggling to contain her abundant chest.

Tyler helped her with the rest, peeling away each layer to reveal more of her gorgeous body. Her belly was soft and round, her hips wide, her thighs thick enough to leave him speechless. He laid her back on his unmade bed and kissed a path from her neck to her navel.

"You don't have to—" she started, but he was already between her thighs, his tongue finding her center.

She tasted like desire, pure and intoxicating. Tyler worked her with lips and tongue, learning what made her gasp, what made her moan. When he slid two fingers inside her and curled them just right, she screamed, her thighs clamping around his head as she came.

"Inside me," she demanded, still shaking. "Now, Tyler. I need—"

He gave her what she needed. The slide into her body was exquisite, her walls gripping him like she never wanted to let go. Brianna wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back as he thrust.

"Harder," she commanded. "I'm not going to break."

So he gave her harder. Gave her everything he had until the bed was slamming against the wall and they were both dripping with sweat. She came twice more before he finally let himself go, spilling inside her with a roar that the neighbors definitely heard.

They lay tangled together afterward, catching their breath. Brianna's fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest.

"About the rent," Tyler started.

"Forget the rent." She propped herself up to look at him, hair wild and makeup smeared. "I'll handle my father."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." She kissed him, slow and deep. "But I'll be back next month to... check on things."

Tyler found himself smiling. "I'll make sure to have coffee ready."

"Forget the coffee." She climbed on top of him, already feeling him stir back to life. "I've got better uses for that mouth."