Spanking the House Guest - You Call This Abuse?
Chapter 1 - When Does a Guest Become a Pest?

Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Reluctant, Coercion, BiSexual, Heterosexual, True Story, Cheating, Spanking, Group Sex, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Double Penetration,

Desc: True Sex Story: Chapter 1 - When Does a Guest Become a Pest? - In college, I shared a townhouse with a guy. He let his girlfriends cousin crash in our guest room. Her short stay turned into months. She was a long term no rent house guest pest. She bothered me so much, I stayed away. When my girlfriend went on a two week vacation I was forced to go home. I figured my chance of a vacation fling was zero with our resident house pest. I was forced to take action. Slow Start - Action starts in Ch 2

All good things come to an end, eventually. I was trying to be philosophical. Young adult house mates come and go, even when you are good fuck buddies.,

Ann and I had lived together for two years. At first we were friends in different bedrooms. Then we became frequent sex partners. Friendship had its benefits. Then, not so frequent. Ann's bi-sexual bed partner selections gradually transitioned more toward females. Then she moved in with Kendra. Sigh.

After Ann moved out, we were still close friends and confidants. We scouted sex partners for each other and still had some awesome sex together.

My life was better than it could have been. When your live-in friend with benefits moves out it could be tough on your sex life. In this case our buddy fuck sex thing didn't entirely stop. Friends with benefits just got a new venue or two. We still got together for a friendly encounter, but we knew our future wasn't together.

It was cool, we were still fuck buddies. We just both liked girls. Ann still sent guy biased girls my way, and Ann still liked an occasional dicking. We just couldn't help each other out morning and evening like we had been used to doing. When your fuck buddy is just down the hall, masturbation doesn't make much sense. Sigh. Hello Rosie.

Our other sex partners helped pick up the slack too. Ann had Kendra and a slew of females eager to explore. I spent most of my time with two women friends, Laura and Susan, who lived together in the same house. My affair with the two women began as a revenge fuck, but, that's another story. (Friday Five O'clock Club)

I decided to separate housing economics from romantics. Wouldn't it be less complicated that way? Maybe a guy might be an easier housemate. It would be simpler, no sex or romance complications. I like women and simply have no interest in guys. I invited a fellow engineering classmate to share my townhouse. Steve was easy going; we had worked on a class project together and got along well. We wouldn't even cross paths very often, as we both spend so much time in school and with women friends. We would be phantom housemates, a simple and straightforward housing arrangement. It worked for a while.

Yes, it worked but ... Softhearted Steve got caught in a clever ask. His very steady woman friend, Bonnie, has a cousin named Molly. Molly finally got fed up with her no account abusive boyfriend and mouthed off. It was a strategic error on her part. She should have moved out, and then told him what she thought.

He beat the crap out of her and destroyed her phone. When she fled their apartment, she drove away in her car with a black eye, busted lip, bruises, and her laptop bag. Sadly this wasn't the only bad thing that ever happened to Molly. She seemed to collect loser boyfriends.

On the good side she was away from her most recent abusive jerk. On the downside the pinhead had stolen her money, destroyed her clothes, and trashed her reputation at the restaurant/bar where they both worked. On the plus side, she found a safe couch to crash on with her cousin, Bonnie.

On the downside, Molly turned out to be a bad thing for Steve's sex life. Molly camping on her Cousin Bonnie's couch cramped everyone's style.

Not only did Molly's presence on the couch simply crowd Bonnie's home and love life. Molly is a downer. A real doom cloud. Worse, Steve can't get Bonnie away from her. At first, Bonnie tried to cheer up Molly. That got old real fast, mainly because it didn't work. Now Bonnie won't fuck.

"Molly might hear us," she whispered. Both she and Steve became sexually frustrated grumps, sleeping in the same bed wanting but not having sex.

I caught bits of the story as Steve and I crossed paths in our townhouse. We always had enough time to share a few beers, a little weed and to catch up on personal news. Now Steve really needed to blow off steam from his frustration. It became a frequent complaint. Steve would randomly say, "Fuck, I gotta get laid."

Steve can't even get Bonnie to leave the apartment for a quickie. "It's like an infectious depression." Steve complained. Bonnie never liked to stay over in Steve's bed in our low rent slum townhouse. Bonnie thought it was too slummy. Yeah, OK. The neighborhood was the pits, but inside was a good, clean, cheap place to live. It was perfect for an engineering student. Anyway, the venue argument with Bonnie was not winnable, so Steve quit trying. It was impossible to get Bonnie in the mood, Molly was always there.

It was especially irritating to Steve when I was obviously getting it on. The evidence was walking around the house. Fuck buddy, Ann, still came over to do laundry and get her ashes hauled. Laura and Susan often shared my bedroom. We didn't ever try to conceal what we were doing; it was often very noisy sex. Yet, Steve and I never discussed my sex life. It wasn't his business and I didn't want to rub it in Steve's face.

Bonnie was frustrated too. Her itch needed scratching. Bonnie was motivated.

She hatched a plot to get Molly gone from her couch. Bonnie didn't want to go to Steve's place but it was perfectly fine for Molly. Bonnie said to Steve, "Look, with a phantom housemate like Dave and an empty third bedroom Molly can move into your back bedroom."

The reasoning went on, Molly was no threat to Bonnie, and Steve since Steve would be in Bonnie's bed. Molly would have 'more space'. Anyway, it would get Molly off Bonnie's couch. Bonnie could go back to getting her toes curled regularly without an audience. After all she argued, "Dave is hardly ever there, the third guest bedroom is open, it has a mattress..." the push was on. Steve caved. After all, Steve's almost always at Bonnie's apartment. Now he could be in her bed all the time.

Molly was moving.

I came home after a long weekend with Laura and Susan to find a strange woman in my living room.

"What the fuck? Who are you? How did you get in here?" I asked. Though I'd heard the sad tale, I'd never met Molly.

"I'm Molly, Bonnie's cousin. Steve gave me the key. He said it would be alright." Molly has landed, fait accompli.

Her face was kind of cute, but she looked like your basic homeless person. Molly sat on the couch with legs crossed in lotus position her knees poked through her raggedy jeans and one shoulder poked up through the neck hole of her oversized sweat shirt. Her hair was greasy and matted. There was a distinctly bad smell in the room, like ripe garbage or nasty laundry. I was shocked and mad. There she was in the middle of my couch. A mess, but kind of cute in the face.

I went into the kitchen, looked around, and got even more pissed. I counted to ten then went back into the living room to tell Molly she had to leave.

Standing in front of her I was ready to let loose, start yelling and then throw her out. Molly looked so small, as she cringed in front of me. I guess she could tell I was mad. When she looked up, there was fear in her face.

I was shocked again and now mad at myself. I don't ever hurt women. It shamed me and hurt to see her fearful of me.

Turning on my heel, I ran up to my bedroom. Behind the closed door I called Steve.

Barely able to control my voice I started as a whisper but wound up shouting into the phone. "Steve, what the fuck? This fucking Molly woman has moved into the back fucking bedroom. She says you gave her a key!" I was yelling so loud I barely needed a phone for Steve to hear me.

Steve had a Zen like calm as he explained, "You know the story; Molly is Bonnie's cousin. She lost her apartment and needs a place to stay." As our conversation volleyed back and forth it became clear, his Zen calm was the direct result of a thoroughly satisfying non-stop fuck, the first such in weeks. Bonnie just needed some privacy. Now she was making up for lost time riding Steve right through our conversation. Molly was never coming back to her couch.

"Man you should have asked me," I said, trying to get a grip on myself.

"Ah, give her a break. She has no job, no money, no place to stay, just a few old clothes from Bonnie and a worn out car that hardly runs. She has been begging places to stay and has worn out her welcome here. She doesn't eat anything or seem to be getting her act together. She is depressed." Steve said.

I railed on, saying, "She stinks! I mean she smells. Her hygiene isn't good, her hair's greasy, and nasty with split ends. She must not be bathing. It's rank. She's all funky and her clothes are basic homeless, the stuff droops on her bad. She looks really fucked up, like MAJOR DEPRESSED!"

"She quit eating for a while." Steve replied.

"Stopped eating? Shit man, she ate everything in the pantry. All the food is gone, mine yours, everything. She even ate all the brown rice. That was a 5 pound bag! You owe me a grocery run." he said. "The sink is full of dirty dishes. They are either yours or hers. You know our rules man, we keep a neat place; she can't trash the place like this."

"OK. I'll do it. We'll get food and clean the place up. You know how it is, man. That Lysistrata thing is awful," Steve said.

"Well, that's enough to get you down, but now you made her my problem. She's already worn out her welcome. I don't want her here. Man, she's going to be a real downer. What if I want to bring someone here to fuck? Imagine bringing in some strange with stinky sitting on the couch," I said.

"Come on man, you're never there. You are always with Laura. Or Susan. Or Ann. Molly knows Ann anyway. You might even get a threeway. It's not going to be a problem. After all, she will only be around a little while, until she gets back on her feet," Steve said.

"Can she stay with Bonnie when I have a guest?" I asked.

"Man you know she's never going to get back in here again. We weren't getting it on with her around. Bonnie wanted her gone. If we didn't get her out I was going to die from lack-a-nookie." Steve joked.

"Fuck. Dammit. This is fucked up. She's just so fucking pitiful. I can't just throw her out? Can I?" Fuck. Now I'm arguing against myself. "I guess she can stay for a few days, but you got to get Bonnie to clean her up. And make a grocery run. Today. You owe me man." I said.

"Alright, alright, I'll get Bonnie. We'll make a grocery run."

"OK, but make sure Bonnie gets her to clean up. She stinks."

"See ya later. I've got to study," Yeah, study Bonnie's cooter, you fuck.

With that I hung up and went down to find Molly in the same spot. "I guess you can stay for a little while, but you have got to keep the place and yourself clean. We keep the place neat and clean all the time. House rules. You too. You need a bath bad. Those clothes are really funky," I said. "If you don't clean up, I'm throwing you out."

"Another thing; you can't just eat all my food. You need to get your own. This isn't a charity here," I said.

Molly didn't say a thing while I talked to her. She did look up at me and nod. She was so pitiful it drained the anger out of me.

Later that day, Bonnie got her cleaned up and did laundry. A small step forward. For a while Molly smelled good and looked cute.

A week or so later, the weather had warmed. I came home to find Molly doing a full lotus in tank top and panties. I camped out next to her on the couch and tried to mimic her position. My jeans were tight and a half lotus was as far I could get. So I shucked my jeans and got into full lotus. Molly said, "I didn't know you were into yoga."

"Yeah, Watch this." I replied as I flipped my ankle nearest to Molly, behind my head. I wasn't thinking ahead, as my package bulged out the sides of my jockeys.

Molly responded by flipping her near leg behind her head. Now the two of us had thinly clad crotches very visible to each other. In the middle of a mutual crotch appreciating stare I asked, "You wanna blow some dope?"

Molly said, "Sure." while scratching around the top of her cunt. We sat there and started to blow a joint with a leg up on our necks. There was a lot of mutual looking as the joint passed back and forth.

Her bulging titties popped a baby bottle nipple against her tight t-top. She was close enough to smell. This time her smell was good clean excited girl stuff. Good golly, Miss Molly.

Her hair haloed crotch somehow remained a featured item on nonchalant display as she moved through her positions, lifting one leg then another behind her head. I couldn't stop looking. Was it the little fur halo sticking out the legs of her panties or her camel toe cunt? My jockeys were strained by a long fat dick and barely stretched over my balls.

Finally she worked into a downward dog with her ass towards me. Resting her head and shoulders on the floor she slyly scratched her cooter. She had my dick swollen to the point of discomfort so I had to rearrange it. She watched me make my adjustment around her shoulder. Smiling she climbed into my lap. Molly's unfettered titties wobbled under her thin tank as she knee walked up my thighs. Her lean legs stretched across me as she scooted her thinly clad cooter into contact with my barely clad dick. She leaned into give me a kiss.

"Ann came by to do her laundry, we talked awhile. She asked me if we'd fucked yet. I said, no, not yet. She said I should just make a move. She said you are a real good fucker. Damn, I need some cock." Molly ran her fingers into my hair and pressed into another kiss. My thinly covered dick shaft was getting wet where it pressed between her hot camel toe lips.

"I want to make it up to you for being such a pain. For stealing your spare bedroom. We could work out something in exchange." Molly continued.

KLANG KLANG KLANG alarm bells rang in my big head, barely heard over the throbbing in my little head. Then actual caring and logic emerged from the sex fog. Years of living with feminists colored my thinking as I said, "Nah."

I continued, caressing her tittie. "I'm not going to trade fucks for rent. That's not going to work at all. You need to get a job, get your own place. Fuck for rent is dependency. What happens if I wanna and you don't? That's blackmail rape. Don't get me wrong, I'd fuck you as a housemate. You got me rock hard and ready. I like women as people, not just cunts. I'm just not going to start something off that feels like sex for money. I'm not gonna fuck you for the rent."

"But DAMN, you are doable. You got my dick stiff." I moaned. She kissed and humped me, but I got up and desperately went seeking Susan.

I told Susan everything. She said, "Poor baby, you did the right thing and here is your reward." We fucked until Laura got home and took over. I stayed with them for the next few days, our free time was spent in bed.

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