My Husband Sent Me To Collect The Rent
Title: “The Shocking Truth Behind My Husband’s Elaborate Plan”
As I pulled up to the modest suburban home, I couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of unease. My husband, Ivan, had sent me to collect the rent from our new tenant, a young Russian beauty named Natasha. He assured me it was a simple task, but something about his latest business venture seemed off.
I rang the doorbell, smoothing out my tight pencil skirt. The door creaked open, revealing Natasha in all her glory. Those full, perky breasts were barely contained by a low-cut tank top, and her long, toned legs seemed to go on for miles. She flashed a dazzling smile, her porcelain skin glowing. “Ah, you must be the landlady,” she purred in a thick accent.
Natasha invited me inside, her hips swaying seductively as she led me to the living room. The place was immaculate, with none of the typical signifiers of a new tenant settling in. She offered me a cold drink, her fingertips grazing mine as she handed me the glass. I took a cautious sip, the ice cubes tinkling musically.
As we made pleasant small talk, Natasha leaned in close, her ample cleavage inches from my face. “Your husband, he is a busy man, no?” she asked, running a finger along the rim of her glass. “Always working,-neglecting such a beautiful wife…” Her eyes flashed with an unspoken challenge.
I swallowed hard, trying to maintain composure. “Ivan keeps very busy, yes,” I managed, my cheeks flushing. Natasha reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Her touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine.
Suddenly, I felt guilty for even entertaining these thoughts. I was a married woman, for crying out loud. I downed the remainder of my drink and stood abruptly. “Well, thank you for the payment, Natasha. I should be going now.”
But Natasha wasn’t having any of that. She stood and placed a hand on my shoulder, her eyes smoldering. “But you haven’t collected the rent yet, pretty landlady,” she purred, guiding me back to the couch. “And I think I have something much better to give you…”
My mind raced as she slipped off her tank top, revealing her perfect, braless breasts. Before I could protest, Natasha’s lips were on mine, her silky hair brushing against my face as she kissed me hungrily. I gasped as her hands wandered, expertly unbuttoning my blouse and skirt.
Caught up in the moment, I grabbed her hips and pulled her close, our bare flesh pressing together as we lost ourselves in a passionate embrace. Natasha’s fingers found that sweet spot between my thighs, stroking and teasing until I thought I might come undone.
Lost in a haze of lust, I never even noticed the telltale click of the front door opening. Until Ivan’s voice filled the room, his tone a mixture of surprise and satisfaction. “Well, well, well. Looks like I taught you well, my dear.”
I jolted upright, simultaneously mortified and turned on. Natasha just smiled wickedly, bunching her shorts up around her hips to reveal the soaked fabric underneath. “Your wife is quite the natural,” she purred, stroking my hair. “You will not have time for work anymore.”
Ivan grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “No, I don’t suppose I will.” He crossed over to the couch, shedding clothes as he went. In a matter of moments, the three of us were entangled in a wild, sweaty dance of passion fueled by uncovered desire.
As the afternoon sun streamed in the windows, I found myself sandwiched between Ivan and Natasha, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of my body. I’d never been with another woman before, but it felt so incredibly right, like the missing piece of the puzzle that was our marriage.
In the days and weeks to come, Ivan and I would learn the true power of Natasha’s allure. She became our secret lover, the missing ingredient that spiced up our sex life while fueling the flames of our desire for each other. I never did get the official rent payment that day, but I suppose, in hindsight, I got so much more.
