This story follows on chronologically from 'Charlotte & Her Landlord' but can be read as a separate story.
My fifty-plus year old, grey haired landlord, who had just given me the two best orgasms of my life, had just cum in my tight twenty-two year old pussy.
It took me a while to realise what was happening though but it seemed as though a switch had been turned off in Mr. Whitehead and the atmosphere had rapidly changed.
"I'll get you a taxi now," he snapped, irritably, handing me my clothes and shoes as he started punching in the number on his phone.
"What?" I said, struggling to come to terms with the new post-sex mood in the room, despite it still smelling of sex, it was clear he wanted me out, "why?"
"Look, you can't stay here," he snarled, "you must leave."
I tried to protest, I wanted an explanation but I wasn't getting anything out of him apart from a dismissal and a journey back to my house.
I felt tears rolling down my cheek as I sat in the taxi, making my way through the darkened streets of the city, trying to piece together the events of that evening, sending a stream of messages to Mr. Whitehead, all without reply, in search of a meaning for this sudden rejection.
Back at my shared student house, I had a late night shower and cried myself to sleep.
I didn't bother to set my alarm, I made the decision to skip classes the next day to instead mope around the house by myself.
It was well past midday when I emerged from my room and went to get some coffee and cereal from the kitchen.
"Hello, sorry, I didn't realise anyone was in," it was Ray, the builder, who greeted me with a massive smile, clearly pleased to see me as he was carrying out work for Mr. Whitehead, our landlord, "I would have turned my radio down if I'd known."
"Oh no, no, seriously," I fumbled my words, "I didn't even hear it, I was fast asleep."
"It's my last day today," he said, "I'll be out of your hair for good then, sorry, if all of this work on your house has disrupted your studies."
"Please don't worry Ray, it's hardly affected me at all. In the day, when you've been here, I've nearly always been out at uni. I'm just about to make a coffee, do you want one?"
"Thanks Charlotte, but, I'd rather have a tea, if you don't mind."
"Sure, how do you take it again?"
"Strong and dark, no sugar, the ladies say I'm sweet enough already," he joked.
I actually laughed at this, breaking my mood.
He made his way back to where he was working as the kettle boiled and I then made his tea to bring out to him.
"Are you okay," he said, "not being at your university today and all that?"
"Hmmm," was all I could muster, obviously my unhappiness was reflected in my face and body language.
"Sit down," he said, really nicely, "pretty thing like you can't have too many worries in this world."
"If only."
"I bet you've got boys queuing right down the road, just to talk you. I'm guessing it's boy trouble?"
"Almost," I replied, I could feel a tear building up, "except he's a not a boy, he's a man."
With that, I burst into uncontrollable tears, I was really sobbing, my heart ached because of the confusion I was feeling from the last night and the rejection from Mr. Whitehead after such an exhilarating high.
Without thinking, I was quite literally crying on Ray's shoulder. The man employed by my landlord, Mr. Whitehead, to do the building work on the shared house I lived in.
"There, there love," Ray had his arm around my shoulder and was patting my head, "if you want to talk about it, I'm told I'm a good listener."
"I don't know how to explain it," I said, finally, as my tears relented and I could get out some words, "but I thought I'd found someone who could really make me happy but he's just completely rejected me and I don't know what to do. I feel terrible about myself. Like I'm not good enough and never will be."
"Look at me," he said, "fifty years old next week, overweight and not a lot of great opportunities coming my way, compare this to you, how old are you, twenty-one?"
"Twenty-two."
"Oh, that ripe old age. I was going to say you've got so many opportunities in your life but that was when I thought you were 'only' twenty-one."
I laughed at this.
"But seriously, Charlotte," he continued, "you think what's happening to you now is a big deal, but promise me, it won't seem quite so big, even in a few days, maybe a month, this time next year it'll probably all be forgotten."
I spoke to him calmly, I explained a few of my problems, I omitted the details: explicit and personal, no names and so on and he was right, he really was a good listener. Chipping in with a few choice bits of advice, no judgements.
I realised that I was sat next to him on a sofa, cuddling into him and he was right, he was carrying a bit of extra weight, but he made me feel better and safer. I was still wearing my coconut white satin pyjama set with little shorts exposing my long legs and nothing underneath the matching top.
I just needed to feel wanted again and as I cuddled into him, I thought it must be the outline of his erection forming a tent pole in his work trousers. I didn't stop to think that two men, both old enough to be me father in just two days, probably wasn't the best idea but I just couldn't help myself.
"You really are so lucky Charlotte," he said to me as I was still in his arms, "clever, at university, probably going to get a great job, leading to a nice house and all that, you've got lovely long hair, it smells delicious, you've got the best pair of legs I've seen in many a year, soft, smooth skin, I've seen more fat on a butcher's pencil, as they say, and you know what, you're a nice person with it as well. Your nose isn't stuck up in the air like some people's."
I looked up from cuddling him and into his kind eyes and I couldn't help but kiss him on the lips. It was Ray that actually held back at first but as I pushed my lips into his again, my mouth parted to be met by his forty-nine year old tongue. I was actually enjoying this and appreciated his roving hands on the outside of my pyjamas, touching my body through the material and the exposed skin of my legs.
I thought, maybe the hangover from too much alcohol last night may have contributed to the situation as well but there was no doubting I was horny and I felt the desire for the touch of a man.
