What Landlords Deserve (hyper futa on female, ntr, pregnancy, sph, excessive cum)

Johnny Chesterton had a perfect life.

He thought about it every morning when he stared at his reflection in his wall-spanning bathroom mirror. Placed across the perfectly polished granite countertop were the daily items he never left the house without: a slightly ill-fitting Rolex that he clasped under his suit-covered wrist. A designer Italian leather wallet he stuffed into his pant’s front pocket, which bulged the dark material from the amount of bills folded into it. An “unbreakable” comb he swiped across his greased-back, black hair before tucking it into his suit’s breast pocket. And of course, his wedding band – 18K gold with a rectangular diamond that split the middle – which he spun on his finger before surreptitiously hiding it next to his wallet, glancing over his shoulder as he did so.

He chuckled nervously to himself as he looked back at himself in the mirror, his thin pink lips twisting into a confident smile; his wife was downstairs cleaning, no doubt. She certainly wasn’t peering around the corner at him! Raising his tanned hands, which were adorned with several other jeweled rings, he adjusted his blood-red tie, loosening its hold around his neck ever so slightly. It rested against his black, tailored suit, which hugged his chest tightly and ran down to his stomach. He gave his midsection several pats, noting that he had started to form a bit of pudge there - probably from all the beers he downed with dinner every night.

Completing his ensemble, he grabbed a large bottle of cologne from next to the sink’s basin and raised it to his neck. A spray on each side below his jaw, a couple under each armpit, one dab per wrist, and to top it off, a healthy dose layered atop his groin. Setting it back down, he checked his hair one more time, his brown eyes studying each strand before falling on themselves; he was starting to get wrinkles. Squinting, he pressed his fingers under his eyelids, pushing and stretching the skin around as if he could force smoothness into his skin - maybe it was time to look into that Botox stuff his wife mentioned occasionally. He flashed himself another grin, this time showing his rows of yellowed teeth, many of which were crooked and chipped. His charming smile more than made up for his unkempt rows of not-so-pearly whites, and besides… dentistry was a scam, everyone knew that!

Johnny Chesterton’s life was perfect, even if his teeth weren’t.

Walking out of the bathroom, his black sock-covered feet padding from tile to carpet, he stopped at the large four-poster California King he shared with his wife. Carefully taking the jacket to his suit that she had laid out for him while he showered off of the neatly-made up comforter, he slid it over his arms, taking every precaution in order to keep it wrinkle-free. Exiting the room, he made his way past hallways and closed doors, humming to himself as he went. Art lined the walls, mostly imitations and expensive replicas of famous pieces, but still replicas nonetheless; not that it mattered, they looked classy and that was the point! His hand slid down a maple banister as he descended a staircase to the first floor, the sounds of his wife in the kitchen reaching his ears.

Pausing at the entrance to the kitchen, Johnny ogled his partner as she bent over and rummaged through one the lower cabinets. Her wide hips and round ass shook enticingly as she moved pots and pans around, her lower half swaying back and forth. Smiling to himself, he crept towards her, making sure his movements were noiseless across the cold tile floor. As he positioned himself directly behind her, he gave another glance at her backside before swatti

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