Aunt Judy’s XXX – Busty BBW MILF Landlady Charlie Rae Fucks Her Broke Tenant
The Busty BBW MILF Landlady Charlie Rae
Let me tell you a naughty tale about a curvy, shapely landlady named Charlie Rae. This free-spirited MILF was built like a brick house, with an inflated ego to match the size of her massive, natural tits. Charlie’s neighborly charms were equal parts sunshine and bubbling compost – sweet, but with an underlying stink of something rotten. Her tenants routinely found themselves entangled in her melodramatic web, a fate they both feared and craved. Charlie had a peculiar knack for uncorking a man’s willpower like a cheap corkscrew through a bottle of Two Buck Chuck.
The Doomed Tenant
Michael was a broke college student renting an old apartment at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac. With bleach-blonde hair, he was skate-punk scum, and he knew it. Heated cream to his coffee in the microwave each morning, gnawing on stale Pop-Tarts he found on the floor of his garage. Michael was a hot mess, and Charlie saw that kind of thing as an invitation.
The Encounter
The first time they met, Michael was dead broke, maxed out on credit, and about to get evicted. Charlie swanned into the complex like a Baskin-Robbins burqa, her heavy breasts straining against a sheer button-up shirt. “Oh Michael,” Charlie clucked, shaking her head as Michael stood dumbstruck at the bottom of the stairs. “What is the world coming to? Broke and about to be homeless.” She sighed deeply, and Michael’s gaze perversely followed along. “Now get dressed and come on over to my place. I have a few chores that could use attention.”
The Landlady’s “Favor”
Charlie’s bedroom sparkled in the morning light. The carpet popped softly under Michael’s feet as he followed her to the tall window overlooking the neighborhood. Her perfume made his head spin like a fleshy pinwheel. Charlie swept her head of summer-dry hair back with a sigh, unbuttoning the topmost pearl buttons of her blouse to reveal a touch of forced cleavage. “I need your help with something. Come over around noon. I have a special surprise.” With a wink, she turned and disappeared into the master bath, leaving him underdressed and witless.
An Arresting Encounter
A few hours later, Michael timidly approached Charlie’s front door, the pungent air smelling of blacktop and diesel. He could hear music thumping out into the street – rap mingled with obscure Spanish melodies. Charlie opened the door wearing a sticky latex “fuck me” dress and a garter belt. Her swollen breasts threatened to slip out of the front of the dress. “They’re for suckin’,” Charlie tittered into her fist, ushering Michael into the living room where a mirrored disco ball spun crazily overhead. Her thick legs terminated at a pair of cream boots. “What took you so long? My pussy’s been dripping all morning, imagining your young buck getting me off.” She stepped closer, cat-like, and let her tongue curl halfway out of the side of her mouth. Like a dumbstruck puppy, Michael followed her hips into the kitchen, watching the dress tighten around them as she bent over the counter.
Charlie reached into the refrigerator and produced a pre-poured Babycham And Goldschager. Through a serrated exhale from his nose, he watched the, drank it straight up, down. “You like MILFs?” Charlie asked. “Oh you know what? Just get fucked up.” With a cuckold’s chuckle, she threw her head back and tossed back two cocktails as Michael’s glass bounced off the carpet.
Dessert is Served
Raw denim slacks dangled over a forgotten chair as Charlie backed away from the stove, wearing nothing but a strappy dress and two rings on her right hand. Michael could see her erect nipples threatening to burst free through the sheer pink fabric. “I didn’t know they were that stiff,” she said, trying to cover them between her fingers. In one fluid motion, she kissed him hard and shoved him onto the couch, crawling atop him in her black boots. He felt his breath quicken as Charlie’s hand slid between the slats of his belt.
The Fallen Tenant
Charlie stood over the lumpy wooden desk, a gutted Macintosh Powerbook in one hand. In the other, she gripped Michael’s portable pink KP Hall dildo, stroking it slowly. It was a tight fit in her asshole; her quaint set of semi-strong natural tits and “Is brand new!” brand tagline sparkled warmly in the light of her basement workshop.
Agest in the afternoon, Charlie took her customary place on the gold shag carpet and let Michael oil her up. Jiggling in the pale afternoon light filtering through the windows, Charlie’s ass could be seen mottling, boasting the occasional kinky if chatty scar or two. The symmetrical nubs of her inner thighs caught nervous gasps as thick thumps of air squeezed out of Michael’s chest.
The moment hung in the air like the sweet odor of Charlie’s anal cum as she climbed the stairs, the outline of her naked tits barely visible through the blinds as she reached the top. The door swung shut, leaving Michael alone on the carpet, humpbacked bag resting against the baseboard, moisture dripping down his leg. Later, he’d have to wipe the dildo a second, final time and return to his lonely apartment. The spell was broken.
Charlie stood over the kitchen table, framed by the stained Aztec wallpaper of the apartment she’d just rented across the alley. She looked down at the dildo going up her asshole with a resigned smirk. “No no no no,” she said, pulling it out and presenting Michael with the base. “It’s almost as good as the real thing. Pinch me when they’re done.”
