My Way Out Of Dept free porn video

It began to go wrong early on Monday morning. She was
woken from the pleasant stupor of sleep by someone
pounding on the door of the flat. Glancing through half
open eyes she saw it was still only a few minutes after
six and guessed her boyfriend had forgotten something
crucial and had come back in a panic. Only an hour
earlier she had drowsily kissed him goodbye before he
slipped quietly out of the flat, bound for the airport.
He was on his first foreign trip in his new job and was
to be away in Paris until the following week.

'He's probably forgot his laptop, or his phone or
something important' she murmured to herself as she
crossed the small hall to the door vaguely aware that
if it wasn't Mark she probably ought to be wearing
something more substantial. Since their holiday she had
moved in with him and had taken to sleeping in one of
his old tee shirts, the neck of which slipped down over
her shoulder, exposing one of her pert little breasts
in quite a pleasing way she had thought when first
she'd worn it and the hem of which just about concealed
her smooth pubic mound if she was standing up.

As her hand released the Yale lock she made a mental
note to get one of those security spy hole things
fitted so you could check who's at the door before you
open it. Before she could open the door it was pushed
back, and a large, suited man, carrying a clip board
stepped forcefully into the opening. 'Are you
Fiona_______? He demanded in what she thought was a
Glaswegian accent.

Pulling the neck of the shirt up to conceal the errant
nipple, she nodded, shocked into silence by this abrupt
intrusion into her cosy morning. 'Johnston and MacLeish
Bailiffs and debt collectors'. Fiona accepted the card
and papers he handed her, but already understood the
nature and reason for this visit. Behind him on the
shared landing of the tenement she was aware of at
least two other men, not so well dressed, just waiting.
Reading the documents confirmed her worst thoughts.
These men had come to call in the loan she had taken
out to pay for their recent holiday.

She had known it was risky to borrow from one of these
'no questions asked' companies and had heard the horror
stories but it had only been a few hundred pounds and
when she vacated her own flat her deposit would cover
the loan. In any case she and Mark were up to the limit
on their student and other loans and had no where else
to get money from. Even so she had not told Mark about
the loan, he was so keen to go on holiday with her and
had covered all the other expenses.

Unfortunately her landlord deviously but legally found
a way of not repaying the deposit and she had been left
high and dry. When the first date for repayment came
round the debt had risen to five hundred pounds. By
leaving her previous address without any forwarding
details she sort of hoped they wouldn't find her and
maybe they would write her off. Now it was brutally
clear how assiduous these companies could be in pursuit
of their cash and they were now demanding in excess of
a thousand pounds to clear the debt.

'I can't pay at the moment,' fiona whispered, leaning
listlessly against the door to the kitchen. 'I have no
money at all,' she opened her hands in helpless gesture
forgetting the top which obligingly slid down to
display her firm left breast, tanned brown as a fresh
bantam egg by the Spanish sun. 'In that case we are
legally empowered to detain goods to cover in part or
total the value of the debt,' monotoned the bailiff.
'If I were you I'd get some clothes on,' he continued,
starring at her breast while motioning his two
accomplices into the flat.

Stepping past her into the kitchen he began applying
stickers to various items. The microwave, the kettle,
the fridge. 'They're not our things' wailed Jenny as
the two rather unkempt men began to carry out the
belongings of the flat on the shared landing floor.
When one of them picked up Marks fancy music system she
attempted to take it from him.

The Bailie grabbed her round the waist with one hand
and lifted her with ease off her feet. He held her
tight, legs in the air the tee shirt round her waist,
her lovely bottom and shaven fanny perfectly on view to
his helpers. 'That's not our problem sweetheart, and as
I said before I'd get some kit on before my friends
here loose interest in your furniture and want to
investigate your neat little cunt'. With that he
deposited her on the bed, closed the bedroom door on
her and continued his inventory of the flats valuables.

She didn't normally curse but now she muttered a
continuous string of obscenities as a strategy to
postpone her tears while she struggled into her jeans
and top. How had she let this happen? More to the
point, how was she going to get out of this crisis?

When she emerged from the bedroom the bailiff's men
were carrying the last items of their raid out of the
flat to a waiting van. The flat had been stripped of
almost every electrical item, including the tele,
Mark's computer and the fridge. They hadn't even left
the kettle to boil a cup of tea. The Baillie handed her
an inventory of the goods he had confis**ted and
advised her where they were to be taken and that they
could be put up for sale, if she was not forthcoming
with the full amount of the debt within the next two
days.

When they were gone Fiona allowed herself a few tears
then made a cup of tea with the saucepan on the gas
ring. She then read and reread the details of the
agreement. It seemed watertight. She would somehow or
other have to come up with the money or lose everything
and she didn't mean only the goods taken. How would
Mark react when he found out how stupid she'd been? He
may conclude that she was too much of a liability for a
permanent relationship.

She began to write a list of anyone she knew who could
maybe loan her some short term funds. It was not a long
list. After all most of her friends were students or ex
students and also had big loans and overdrafts. Then
she was down to her parents, and the last thing she
wanted to do was present them with another bill after
they had funded her through uni.

There was no point in talking to the banks. It was
because of their refusal to extend her overdraft that
she'd gone to the loan shark in the first place. 'At
least the rent is paid' she mused. 'Pity they'd had to
fork out such a large deposit on the new flat, that
would have just about covered this emergency' She
conjured up a picture of Mr. Brown their landlord and
the owner of the neighbourhood newsagent and everything
else shop.

He was a bit of a 'sleazeball' she thought, fiftyish,
neat little beard, clothes smart but slightly dated.
Could have been a theatrical or something in a previous
life perhaps. Whenever she went in the shop he was
friendly but just a little too solicitous. Once or
twice he had brushed up against her in the shop, not
quite accidentally she had suspected and something
about him made her uncomfortable. 'Even so' maybe there
was a chance he would refund her the deposit money
temporarily while she worked out a long term solution
to her predicament.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like
a good idea. After all he did have the money. Many of
the goods taken belonged to the flat, obviously she
would be liable for their replacement at much greater
cost but this may influence him, and he would not want
to be looking for a new tenant quite so quickly. She
resolved to give it a go.

Deciding that her interview with Mr. Brown would have
more of a formal status than the usual encounters in
the shop she decided to wear the little business suit
she had purchased for interviews and the like, then
telephoned to see if he could see her. He agreed to see
her at 11 o'clock at the shop. More to calm her nerves
than anything she took a shower and took time doing her
make up. Not that she wore much but it gave her time to
think through the argument she was going to put to her
Landlord.

Pulling on the little navy pencil skirt over the
skimpiest of knickers she began to laugh remembering
how the Bailie had exposed her 'all' to his henchmen
that morning. Normally she would have been embarrassed
at such a thing, but it had happened so quickly she had
almost forgotten it. Mark was always daring her to
'flash' guys, now she had done it without the
intention.

On top she wore a cream camisole under her jacket. Not
much point in wearing a bra, her breasts were the sort
that Bikinis just sat on rather than doing any holding
up. Strappy sandals with a dinky heel completed the
outfit and although she thought it herself, she looked
pretty good. Her brown legs and skin perfectly
complimenting her blonde hair. 'He won't turn me down
today' she said to herself confidently as she let
herself out of the ransacked flat.

It was but a short step to Brown's shop and she stepped
it out confidently, the rent agreement in the document
bag over her shoulder. The July sunshine had already
warmed the pavements and she could feel the heat on her
legs. A few complimentary glances from both men and
women on the street confirmed her intuition that she
had got the look just right.

Like many Scottish shops Brown's convenience store had
no window onto the street and had an austere
atmosphere. After the bright sunlight the shop seemed a
little gloomy, but was certainly cooler than the
street. Jenny asked the girl on the till for Mr. Brown
and was directed to an office at the extreme end of the
shop. Her knock elicited an instruction from within to
'come in. She pushed open the door and stepped into the
room.

Mr. Brown sat at his desk which faced the opposite wall
of the room. He pushed his chair back and turned to
greet Fiona as she entered motioning her to a chair
alongside the desk. He had unknown to her been
savouring the prospect of the meeting since her phone
call. A few times he had tried without success to
engage her in conversation on her visits to the shop.
He loved the way the waistband of her jeans or skirt
sat on her pelvic bones and left just the hint of a gap
between it and her belly. How he would love to slip his
fingers into that gap, how tempting the downy blonde
hair just above the waistband. He sometimes imagined he
could see down that gap and glimpse the delicate pubic
hair below, but he only imagined.

She had only been a tenant of his a couple of months
and he assumed she wanted to complain about the flat.
Normally he would have been unavailable for such a
discussion but the opportunity of having her nubile
body in close proximity, overcame his normal defensive
strategy where tenants are concerned. As she lowered
herself into the chair facing him he knew he had made
the right decision. She had obviously been abroad, her
skin was smooth and tanned and her suit skirt showed
enough of her legs to attract his interest. 'Right now,
Miss Jenny, how can I help you?'

Fiona began by apologising for taking up his time, but
aware of the focus of his eyes on the hem of her skirt
judged her presence was no hardship to him. She
explained the events of the day and the preceding
circumstances before coming to the crunch question of
the deposit money. During her discourse Mr. Brown
stopped her and fetched some iced water and to his
delight she took off the little jacket before
continuing. The light camisole baring the lovely upper
bosom clung to her firm breasts betraying their perfect
shape. Now he was spoiled for choice as to where to
fasten his gaze.

Having listened to her story and proposal Mr. Brown sat
quietly for some minutes. He was unsure how to use this
situation to his maximum advantage. The girl was
clearly desperate, but she might need drawing in a
little further before she would embrace the proposal he
was toying with. Slowly he began. There would be no
problem in letting her have the money, but after all he
was in business, the deposit was security against bad
tenants, hadn't she lost much of his equipment?

The deposit was invested, he would lose interest etc.
How long would she take to replace the deposit? All
these arguments deflated Jenny and she had no answers,
Any job she got would have to be on top of her day job
and it would take months to raise the deposit even if
they had no other expenses.

Reaching into a drawer Mr. Brown pulled out a folder
and passed it to her. 'You're a good looking girl, and
I could find work for you if you were interested and
have a modern outlook. I used to be a photographer in
my youth, and I was good' he pointed to the folder,
'see for yourself'. 'But there's no money in quality
pictures'. Fiona opened the first page to be confronted
by a black and white study of a female nude.

It was not by contemporary standards explicit, and she
thought of the pictures Mark had taken of her with all
her bits on display and sucking his cock. This photo
made the girl look beautiful not dirty. There were many
more photos some of the same girl but all were
dramatic, sexy and interesting. Mr. Brown continued
'I'll lend you the �1200 quid no interest, until you
can pay it back, lets say over six months, on condition
you model for me once a week instead of interest until
the money's paid back.'

Fiona said nothing, but continued leafing through the
folder but not really focusing on the pictures. 'As I
said if you wanted I could put you in touch with some
snappers who want something more full on if you
understand me, but they would pay much, much more'. He
sat back in his chair waiting a reaction almost feeling
sorry for her but nervously hoping she would feel
compelled to accept the proposition, sure that once she
taken that huge step, her progress to satisfying his
more lurid fantasies would be easy.

She couldn't look up at him, but after some minutes
began to whisper. 'Your pictures, would they be like
the ones you've shown me?' In her head she wrestled
with all kinds of thoughts, She had sometimes flashed
guys when Mark had dared her that was one thing, well
now she was considering giving the full-monty to some
creep older than her dad. She wondered if Mark would be
quite as turned on by the reality? Brown could have
cheered out loud, but contained himself. 'Of course my
interest is in the erotic and classic female nude, I've
no time for tacky stuff' he assured her.

There followed a short discussion during which Jenny
found herself agreeing to a first photo session there
and then, prior to Mr. Brown accompanying her to the
warehouse where her stuff had been taken. He telephoned
the Bailiffs and confirmed he would be taking the cash
and managed to prevent them from unloading the stuff
from their van. After speaking to the girl on the till,
the shopkeeper ushered Fiona up to a studio above the
shop, following her up the stairs, to make sure she
didn't have a sudden change of mind but the opportunity
to look up her skirt was also too tempting to miss.

Once in the studio the shopkeeper played it carefully.
He had photographed hundreds of women before, many of
whom were first timers and nervous and he knew that if
you could get them relaxed and enjoying being in front
of the camera you could get some good pictures and
sometimes a lot more. Mr. Brown made Fiona a cup of
coffee and produced some sandwiches from somewhere.

She sat munching away, now and then looking warily at
Brown while he sorted out cameras and fiddled with some
lighting. When he thought she had finished, he
suggested they made a start and directed her to a chair
near the window. To her surprise he asked that she sat
in the chair with her suit on. She posed reminiscent
she thought of a Jack Vetriano painting she had seen.
while he clicked away. He used three cameras, including
a digital. Pausing, he called her to a desk at the
other end of the room, plugged in the digital, and
showed her the pictures he had already taken.

She looked pretty good and felt pleased with herself.
Returning to the chair she asked him how he wanted her
to pose. When he asked her to take off the camisole and
replace her jacket she did so without concern, though
she turned her back on him until she replaced her
jacket. He told her to choose her own poses then made
suggestions' to improve the look' he said.

Occasionally he would adjust the gape of the jacket or
the d**** of the skirt and she quickly became
comfortable with the brush of his hand and the nearness
of his body as he knelt over her to get a close-up. He
showed her some of the latest pictures. She did look
special, and sexy she thought. On some of the shots her
breasts and nipples were clearly displayed but she now
felt 'ok', they were good pictures and Brown was
clearly an expert interested in his art.

Brown was hoping to get some intimate shots of Jenny
before they went to the bailiffs and thought she was
probably ready. After all she was clearly pleased with
the pictures so far. Clearing his throat he nervously
questioned whether she would like to do some 'classic
nude' poses now.

Fiona hesitated but thought 'Well I've already said I
would and it's been very professional so far, why not?'
She took off the jacket and began to unbutton her
skirt.

The photographer affected to avert his eyes while she
undressed but missed nothing noting how firm her
breasts were on her tiny frame. In particular he almost
dribbled as she slipped out of the tiny thong to expose
her hairless fanny. He could feel his cock thicken in
his trousers as the girl self consciously stepped back
under the lights not quite knowing what to do with her
hands. Brown motioned her into the chair again and
began to snap away.

She was nervous he could tell, her nipples were
prominent and she had goosebumps even though it was
quite warm. He complimented her as he worked, on her
appearance on the pose and she began to relax again and
readily co-operate with his requests. For his part the
shopkeeper's heart was pounding. She did not protest
when he adjusted the position of her leg or arm,
accepting his attention as the normal lot of a model
and when she let him lift her breast to expose a nipple
for a particular shot, he could feel his cock leaking
pre-cum into his pants.

Getting Fiona on all fours he took shots of her face in
shadow and her breasts hanging full and heavy.
Crouching behind her he snapped her beautiful pert
arse. Then he asked her to push out her behind so he
could clearly see her vagina. He called it that too, to
reassure her he was still the professional
disinterested photographer he purported to be.

She complied without demur. Her cunt was framed
perfectly by her firm thighs and buttocks as Brown
caught his breath. Fiona knelt there and recalled the
last time she had taken this position was for Mark to
fuck her the previous evening, and she ruefully noted
that Brown was the fourth stranger have a good look at
her hitherto most private place that day. Pushing his
luck Mr. Brown suggested that the folds of her vagina
were uneven and could she put this right. To his
amazement she slipped her fingers through her slit and
asked him if it now looked ok. Taking a couple of shots
Brown paused and said 'Its not quite right, can I see
to it?'

Holding her pose, she took in a long breath. already he
had touched her in a variety of ways and yet he
genuinely seemed only concerned with the perfection of
the pose. She acceded 'that's ok' but he was aware of
her tensing up, awaiting his touch. Shakily Brown
moistened the fingers of his right hand and brought
them near to Fiona,s cunt. The cock in his trousers was
harder than it had been for years, and he sensed the
heat from her behind on his hand. His hand made contact
and he saw all her body contract, his digit finger
slipping into the moist fold of her cunt.

She remained otherwise still. Drawing his fingers up
towards her anus he opened up her vaginal lips. 'Open
your legs a little more' he almost failed to get the
words out. Again she complied. Her cunt was inviting
but Brown confined himself to delicately spreading and
opening her up, this time only for the camera.
'Incredible' thought Fiona who had never let anyone,
unless you count a doctor, other than serious
boyfriends, touch her there, 'it's not really so bad'.
Brown resumed his snapping, then, declared it was time
they dealt with the Bailiff.

As she dressed the shopkeeper chatted away to her,
watching her every move while pretending to look
elsewhere. 'What a lovely body she had. Later on' he
thought 'that cheeky mouth is going to be slurping on
my dick or I'm not Robbie Brown'. Fiona knew he was
watching her and had decided that there was little
point in being coy in front of a man who has just
removed his fingers from your cunt. However she was a
little distracted and unsettled.

Her expectation was that she would have felt dirty and
ashamed, yet in fact if she was truthful she had
enjoyed posing. There was something else too which she
was reluctant to admit to herself. She had been turned
on and was a little annoyed that Brown could maintain
such detachment, even when he had invaded her cunt with
his fingers. Not that she would have entertained
shagging him but she would have liked him to have tried
it on just to rebuff him.

They arrived at the industrial unit via a taxi curtsey
of Mr. Brown. The proceedings were brief and to the
point. Jenny and her landlord checked the goods against
the itinerary and the cash was handed over. The Ballie
was clearly known to 'Robbie' and out of Fiona's
earshot expressed the view to Brown that he hoped he
was getting his leg over in return for the favour.
Robbie said that was his intention and that for a
consideration he would see the Ballie had the same
opportunity. The men laughed and shook on it.

Later on Fiona was making a coffee for Mr. Brown at her
flat. The detained goods had been returned by the same
two men who had removed them. Fiona was this time
wearing her suit but was still grateful for the
presence of the shopkeeper when she remembered how her
nether regions had been gloriously displayed to the
bailiff's men earlier that morning. He turned the
conversation to how she was going to repay his loan,
reminding her that he now had no security on the flat
and that the sessions such as the one earlier she had
agreed would only cover his loss of interest.

'What about the other sort of work you mentioned?'
Fiona asked.

'Well,' cautioned Mr. Brown, 'I can get that for you
but it involves some explicit pictures and almost
certainly having sex with others for pictures or video,
but it pays well, perhaps �100 a session minimum. Do
you have any sexy lingerie?'

'Not much' said Fiona' Why?'

'I thought if you fancied it, I could maybe shoot a few
pictures of the sort that may appeal to that market and
use them to get you some offers of work, then if you
don't like the look of it you can always turn it down.'

Fiona asked when he could take the pictures and not
surprisingly Brown suggested that he had nothing
planned after about 6-30 that evening. They agreed to
meet at the studio, and then sorted through her
underwear drawer at Fiona's request to find some
appropriate outfits. The shopkeeper left, giving her
instructions on the door step to buy some black seamed
stockings and a suspender belt before she came.

As she took a bath Fiona reflected on the day so far.
She had averted disaster and Mr. Brown though she still
remembered she'd had him down as creepy had actually
been her saviour. Posing for the photo's had been fun
and she calculated that she could clear her debt
completely and maybe have a bit over with about a dozen
photo sessions over and above those promised to her
landlord. She would obviously have to be a bit choosy
about what she would do but she thought she could rely
on her landlord to give her advice.

Freshened up and confident she arrived at the shop bang
on time and was directed to the upstairs studio by a
different pasty faced girl on the till who gave her a
quizzical look. 'She probably has completely the wrong
idea about what goes on' thought Fiona in a superior
woman of the world way as she entered the studio.

Mr. Brown ushered Fiona in, praising her appearance,
and helping lay out the selection of outfits they had
decided upon. He suggested a little black basque
stockings and a tiny black thong to begin with combined
with the highest black sandals she possessed. While she
changed into the clothes he emphasised to Fiona the
difference between this sort of modelling and what she
had done that afternoon. 'This is all about projecting
sex in an extremely obvious way. You have to look as
though you are desperate to be fucked, not made love to
and that you are not too bothered whose cock it is, do
you think you can do that?'

He watched her smoothing the tiny triangle of material
over her pubic mound, her breasts offered to his eyes
sitting as though on a shelf on the half cups of the
basque. Surprised by the crudeness of his language she
hesitated. She pulled up the stockings and replied
'Well I can try can't I? Are these seams straight?' she
turned her back on him. Bending down behind her his
nose almost between her buttocks, he scented the sweet
aroma of her crutch as he gently adjusted the stockings
and knew he was on a winner.

The lights were all set up and they set to work
immediately. Fiona struck up a number of typical poses
Brown had shown her from a couple of magazines. The
photographer rattled out his instructions 'Push out
your breasts, stick out your bum' etc and she
responded. Every now and then he would reach out and
manhandle her into the exact position he wanted.
Pulling out her nipples over the bra, dragging the
thong deep into her cunt so it disappeared.

In a different outfit she lay on the floor as Brown
straddled her, then she was on her knees as he pushed
her knickers into her vagina for another shot. Finally
he got her in the chair with her legs spread wide over
the arms. Her knickers were pulled to one side and her
breasts, nipples engorged by some serious tweaking from
the shopkeeper, spilling over the loosened bra. Fiona
did look and feel flushed. 'Now frig yourself off' he
demanded, 'Go on make yourself come for the camera' Not
looking at him, she began to stroke her clit as she had
done for her boyfriend many times before.

Brown kept snapping as her eyes closed and she began to
breath heavily. It was a few seconds before she
realised the clicking of the camera had ceased 'Don't
stop' instructed Browns voice. She thought 'I can't'
Then suddenly his mouth was on her cunt lapping like a
terrier, his tongue pushing deep into her. As he gorged
on her vagina, his thumb fastened on her clit and
resumed the gentle teasing she had stopped. She had
reached down to push him away but instead pulled his
head into her groin. In a couple of minutes she began
to convulse in orgasm.

The shopkeeper slurped on her sopping cunt until her
shuddering had ceased, then without a word manouvred
Fiona onto her knees in front of him. Just as earlier
that afternoon, she remained still. He stood up and
threw off his clothes before getting down behind her
and shoving his sixty year old cock into her. 'Fucking
hell' he thought, 'this feels good' as he began to hump
against her lovely bottom, reaching under her to
squeeze her nipples and massage her clit.

The long anticipation of this though brought him to a
rapid conclusion and he shot his hot stuff into her. He
slumped over her back as his cock softened and slipped
out of her, dribbling spunk down the back of her thigh.
Fiona knelt motionless, in a state of confusion. She
had not intended this to happen yet she had let Brown
tongue her to a climax and then let him fuck her.
Although she should be appalled she was in fact
uncertain about how she felt and what would develop
from here.

While these thoughts turned in her mind she was aware
he was snapping again, capturing she imagined, the
rivulets of their mixed fluids she felt trickling down
her thighs. She heard him cross the room and return but
didn't want to turn round. 'I am sorry I took
advantage, its never happened before' Lied her
landlord. 'You just looked so sexy and beautiful, I
just lost control. If you don't want to carry on
lassie, I understand.'

Fiona turned to sit in the chair facing him. 'Thank god
he's put his pants back on' she thought to herself,
noting the shopkeepers pale wiry body and skinny legs.
'I suppose I can't complain' responded Jenny, 'I could
have stopped you if I had really wanted to, but I was
carried away too, and once I'd come, what happened
after didn't seem to matter much. 'Problem is,' said
Mr. Brown, 'I think I'll find it difficult not to get
carried away again, if you understand me? You are
extremely beautiful and very erotic. But I thought, if
I paid you extra for the sessions where I get 'carried
away' it may be less of a problem for you.'

Fiona sat biting her lip, if she accepted she realised
she was agreeing to have sex with the landlord probably
whenever he fancied it. On the other hand she did need
to get a large amount of cash together quickly. 'How
much were you thinking of?' she heard herself asking.

'Oh maybe a hundred towards your deposit each time,'
responded Brown confident that he could knock the price
down once she was committed to his proposal.

'Does that go for tonight's session too?' Fiona
haggled.

'Ai, I think we can agree to that,' intoned the
relieved and delighted shopkeeper. 'Now shall we finish
off with a few shots in just your stockings and heels?'

She stepped out of her knickers and discarded the bra,
and took up a stance, legs planted firmly apart hands
on her buttocks breasts forward and almost mockingly
pouted, 'How do you want me?'

'Like that will do just fine lassie' Brown muttered,
kneeling before her and rattling off a few shots.
Pulling up two chairs he got her to stand a leg on
each, while he lay below. Then motioning her to squat,
without asking he probed her vagina arranging the
folds.

She guessed to expose her more, but she didn't
complain. Looking down between shots Fiona could see
his prick had recovered and was straining against his
underpants. Helping her down he waltzed round her as
she posed legs splayed, tweaking her nipples to keep
them aroused and slipping his fingers into her. On more
than one occasion, his cock sheathed in his briefs
brushed heavy on her face.

'That's it for tonight' said Brown, 'except that is for
the 'money' shot'. Fiona was about to ask what that was
but was confronted by her landlords dick, fully erect
and oozing pre-cum. It was not huge, as Fiona had
guessed from the fuck and it seemed faintly ridiculous
waving inches from her face, his hairy bollocks
supported by his pants which he had just pushed down.

She knew she was expected to suck him off, so she
decided to get on with it. Grasping his tool with one
hand she steadied herself with the other on his skinny
arse. Lowering her mouth over his knob she began to
suck the prick up and down. The landlords groin began
to thrust in time to her rhythm as he took over,
fucking her pretty face. If he hadn't been quite so
agitated he would have congratulated himself on a great
days work but now he shouted at 'stick your
fingers up my arse' and thrust her hand in that
direction.

She did as she was told pushing at his sphincter
gently. 'Shove harder!' he gasped and as she did so
began to pump his jism into her mouth. 'Don't swallow
hold it in your mouth,' he instructed. 'Now show me!'

As she released his softening member and opened her
mouth, sperm dribbled out down her chin and onto her
breasts. She noticed then a camera automatically
clicking away which must have caught all her last
performance.

Fiona cleaned up and dressed making sure to wash her
left hand very thoroughly, then asked for a receipt for
�100 deposit on the flat. Mr. Brown obliged, wished her
a very good night and said he would call her the next
day.

Later that evening Mark phoned from Paris. They
exchanged a bit of everyday chit chat about his work
what was Paris like etc. Then Mark wanted to talk a bit
fruity and Fiona thought this may be the chance to test
his reaction to today's extraordinary developments. She
told him that she had seen the Landlord in the shop.
Mark knew all about his 'creepiness' from Fiona's
previous reports. 'he's a photographer' said Fiona 'and
he has offered me some modelling work.'

'What sort of photographer?' asked Mark. 'Classic nudes
and erotic studies I think,' Laughed Fiona. 'I told him
I'd have to ask my boyfriend.'

This was a gift to Mark whose sexual imaginings were
dominated by the idea of Fiona falling inadvertently
into depravity. In as round about way as possible, he
let her know he thought it would be a good idea, maybe
a liberating experience, to pose for the Landlord and
after all you couldn't blame him for spotting what an
absolutely stunning model she would make. Fiona let it
rest at that for the moment, it was reassuring to know
that Mark wasn't about to kick her out if he found out
she had posed for the landlord.

She drifted of to sleep debating with herself the
implications having agreed to have sex with the
landlord in return for enhanced payments for the photo
shoots. She convinced herself that it wasn't
prostitution, after all she did owe the Landlord a big
favour over and above the value of the loan and really
the cash was mainly for the pictures.

Unknown to her, Mark had the landlords telephone number
and e-mail from their tenancy negotiations and was
determined to have a chat with him in the morning not
to warn off the shopkeeper as she may have imagined but
to reassure him that should he be able to persuade
Jenny to pose, the more extreme and sordid the better
as far as he was concerned.

To be continued...