Sharing My Landlady's Bed - Sex Stories

Sharing My Landlady's Bed

... er...'

'Penelope. And you're Robin, if I recall.' Unexpectedly she held her hand out and we shook and I noted the veins on the back of her hand and her dark-red painted nails and felt her tapering fingers grip me briefly. 'Let me give you a quick tour while the potatoes are finishing off.'

I followed her out of the kitchen and down the hall into the sitting room at the front of the house where there was a sofa and a couple of easy chairs facing a television. There was also a coffee table and a bookcase stuffed with paperbacks.

Then she showed me upstairs which was really just the bathroom and three bedrooms. 'If you want a bath,' she told me, 'let me know and I'll put the water heater on. But I'd rather you just had a shower, it's ever so expensive to heat the tank.'

'Have you got a full house at the moment?' I asked as we went back out onto the landing and I looked at the closed bedroom doors.

She gave me a small smile. 'No, it's just you. I had got someone coming for the whole of January but they cancelled just before Christmas.' She sighed. 'January in Manchester isn't the best time for Bed and Breakfast businesses.'

We trooped downstairs and back to the kitchen, passing a door on the left that had a sign saying "Private". 'That's my space,' she told me, answering my unasked question. 'If you need anything, just knock. I'm generally around if I'm not shopping,' she added a bit sadly.

In the kitchen she walked over to the back door and I joined her, ...

... looking through the window into the darkness of the garden. 'There's a table and chairs out there if you feel the need to sit in the garden in January.' She looked at me with those heavy-lidded eyes and then her face broke into a smile and I laughed and she laughed and, just for a second, a little thrill of excitement ran through me as I looked at my landlady.

I ate at the kitchen table while Penelope washed up the cooking utensils. When I'd finished the steak and kidney pie she produced a golden-brown apple pie from the oven and cut me a generous slice, putting it down in front of me with a jug of double cream.

'Wow,' I said appreciatively. 'I'm going to have to increase my exercise regime while I'm here,' I smiled.

'There's nothing on you,' Penelope smiled back. 'Not like me,' she added, rubbing her stomach with one hand, though she looked alright to me. A bit of padding on her hips and bum maybe but that's age related and not always a bad thing, if you ask me. I prefer a bit of meat on the bone.

After dinner I bade her goodnight saying I was going to work in my bedroom and have an early night.

'What time would you like breakfast?' she asked.

'Would seven be too early?'

'No, that would be fine. I've got fresh fruit and cereals or I can do you a cooked breakfast?'

'Fruit and cereals sounds fine,' I told her. I'm not a big fan of sausage and bacon at seven in the morning. Then I went up to my room and finished unpacking. It was nearly eight by then so I ...