I lived at my friend Maureen’s flat for several years since I began volunteering at a local charity shop. Maureen and I were old friends from work days at a bank, both of us widowed, retired, but still wanting to be useful. We shared everything and split the rent in half, shared the responsibility of paying the utilities. Everything seemed to be working out fine until she had to into a hospice after illness and I couldn’t afford the rent on the rather large grand place on my own and didn’t fancy a stranger living with me. This meant I needed to find a place of my own quickly.

I searched the newspaper’s local listings, shop windows and online for days looking for someone in need of a tenant. Many available listings seemed promising until I saw what they charged for rent. Others didn’t fit as for long time prejudices were against me. Finally, after several weeks of looking, I saw a listing in the local newsagents window for a room for rent at a man’s house. An elderly single man was looking for a housekeeper to tend to his home and care for his dog while he was on retirement. I knew I could negotiate hours at my beloved charity shop. He charged a lot less rent than most other landlords. I hoped he had no prefixed prejudices.

I tried to look my best as an applicant when I went to meet Ernie at his nice neat bungalow. I was really on edge, having felt awkward in some uncouth peoples company. I kept my jet black glossy long hair past my shoulders and wore minimal make-up as usual. I am 5’4” and weigh about 10 stone, so I’m not a waif. Most men, when they bother to took at a mature well turned out lady, like my shapely frame. Yes there’s a bit of tummy bulge and my arse cheeks are no way firm. Not bad for 52 I thought. My breasts fill a 34 C brassiere so I wore a Gossard push up bra to show off some cleavage with a Royal blue patterned blouse and black knee length skirt. Two inch black court shoes and no stockings, as it was already getting warm out in the beginning of the summer season.

“Hello, I’m Cynthia, Cynthia Makepeace,” I said shaking hands with the old man when he opened the glass front door. “Hello there, Cynthia, my name’s Ernie Snaghurst.” I noticed he sneaked a look at my minimal cleavage. “Ooer! Mrs Sin, is it? You’re a beauty aren’t you?” Not picking up some obscure reference he made, I laughed and smiled, a bit nervously at him. “Thank you.” So far no pre-judged attitude. “You’re too young to remember her,” he waved away my puzzled expression. “Anyway I must admit, when I saw you, I was a bit taken aback...” Here it comes, the big put down. “I mean I’ve never had a ... what do they call it ... a coloured? Yes a coloured applicant before.” “So is there a problem with that?” I quizzed bluntly, thinking I’ll be back on the street in a minute. “No no not at all. I have no problem with that. God forbid, my son is married to a Caribbean lass, proper stunner too. Got two grand kids there, where they live, Kingston Jamaica. Can I ask ... if you don’t mind, where are you from, or better, what’s your ethnic background ... sorry?” “That’s OK Ernie, I’m half Indian and half Macao. Mum was Indian, Bombay ... Mumbai ... you know?”

“I see,” he pondered. “Macao, that’s Chinese yeah? Fascinating ... your mix too. It is truly beautiful, exotic if I may say so. Wow! I’m enchanted,” he snickered. I think his gushing was genuine but at least I was still inside and talking, not out on the street. My skin tone is lustrous dark chocolate brown, but my features are delicate and keenly defined, high firm cheek bones, with almond shaped, ever so slightly slanted dark brown eyes. For his part, while I’m on an appearance mode, he looked about in his 70s with silver thin hair, smartly brushed straight back. He wore a crisp pale blue formal shirt, with enamelled studs in the cuffs. Sharply creased, beige, turn up slacks over polished brown brogues completed his ensemble. Ernie stood close to six feet tall and had a strong youthful looking body despite weathered sun tanned skin with some liver spots on his face and hands. There were three rings on one hand. He had a cultured air about him. His face was rather plain and ordinary with thin cheeks and a pointy nose, but his piercing grey eyes seemed to look deep into mine every time we made eye contact.

“Well this is my little home. It’s one floor of course,” he tittered, leading me through the hall. “The front room is where I’m renting out space. I spend most of my time out with friends and playing golf.” An obedient spotted dog sat near his feet as we spoke in his kitchen. “And this here’s Pep. He’s a friendly fellow, pure Dalmatian,” Ernie told me. “So what is it that you do Mrs Makepeace?” “Please call me Cyn everyone does.” I leaned down to pet Pep on the top of his head. He panted and whined when I touched him. “I volunteer at the Age Concern charity shop. My shift can be in the evenings and some weekends. What a sweet dog,” I added, Pep was nudging my lower legs and lying on my feet. “Yes loveable mutt.” I couldn’t help but notice that Ernie never had Pep neutered. The dog’s grey brown balls wobbled between his legs and strangely I felt a warming sensation in my vagina the longer I looked at them and the dangling heavy bulk of his sheath. I cleared my throat and tried not to let on that anything was going on underneath my skirt. I could only think that certain triggers in me exist, not having had sex for a few years but always having a strong healthy libido “So what kind of work would you need done around the house?” I asked Ernie.

“Well, I just need some cleaning done around the house. I have a half bath right in there,” he pointed to a door adjacent to the kitchen, “That needs cleaning. I also have a master bath down the hall. That’s in my room. You can run the vacuum through the house, sweep and mop the hardwood floors. I’ll need you to take out the recycles and rubbish. Any kind of dusting and straightening up would be great. All of this makes up for the utilities. If you can cook and handle some grocery shopping from week to week, this can also help with your rent a little. I built an en-suite in the front, I’ve had two other ladies staying here, so your own full bathroom is there. I’d like for you to keep it all tidy like the rest of the house.”

It all sounded perfect and I didn’t pry as to the other ladies. I worried for a second that some other applicant would want to stay here and I would miss the opportunity to move in. “Do you have many applicants?” I waited anxiously to find out. “No, actually you’re the only one. Not too many people want to live in a house with an old git like me,” he chuckled disparagingly. “You know doing this kind of work while also working full time. Especially pretty young girls, they’re not interested,” he said. He was using a syrupy tone and winked at me. I felt myself blushing for some odd reason.

“Well, this sounds perfect. I’m hoping to move in soon if that’s possible.” “Of course it is. Let me show you the room for rent, silly - we haven’t got there yet have we? and you can make a final decision about whether or not it’s your kind of place.” It was a simple roomy and light bay windowed room for rent. It had some furnishings that included a full sized bed with one end table, a wooden dresser, and an old table I thought could double as a desk and a small kitchen table if I wanted to eat alone. “I kept it plain and simple so you can bring whatever you need and decorate it however you want.” “This is so charming and it’s just perfect for me.” I told him. To the right of the bedroom area stood a door to the complete and ideal en-suite and next to it a closet with sliding doors that remained open with nothing inside except a couple of hangers.

“That’s great. Now I can show you the rest of the property and we can do the paperwork after once you’ve seen everything. I’ll need to run some background checks just to make sure we’re compatible. It shouldn’t take more than a few days to complete.” Ernie said and showed me around outside, which was about a half an acre. It wasn’t much of a house, really a small and cosy detached place in a nice area of town. He made some excellent coffee and we chatted on a sun bathed garden bench for a while. He explained he’d been a civil servant in the Foreign Office and had done service in Hong Kong, Bangkok and Singapore. He also explained after I asked, that Mrs Sin was an old scandal involving a mature lady called Cynthia Payne. A brothel keeper in London and he told me about lunch vouchers being used for payment in blatant sex parties and some politicians. I’d never heard of her and vowed to look her up one day, We giggled over my name, being the first time I’d heard the reference. After we did the paperwork and everything was approved, I moved into Ernie’s house within the week. For the first couple of weeks I lived there, I kept up with cleaning the house and I did some grocery shopping. We were polite and kept our distance from each other. He seemed to like the occasional meals I made for dinner and he mostly kept to himself, in fact I rarely saw him. I took Pep out for walks and gave him a bath. If we were in the kitchen or utility room at the same time, every now and then I would catch Ernie staring at me with a lascivious look on his face.

One afternoon when I was sitting, reading a Jilly Cooper novel in my room, Pep wandered in to lay at my feet. He had got used to knowing he was allowed in when my door was ajar. I got up to check the post which had just been thrust through the front door and Pep who followed me or Ernie all the time, stuck his snout right under my loose light housecoat and started sniffing the crotch of my panties underneath my skirt. “Hey, boy, what are you doing?” I said lurching upright, with some embarrassment but I didn’t push him away. He tried again as I sat down, pushing his nose in between my thighs. I sensed my panties were damp. Now I can’t explain why, but I wasn’t celibate by choice and now and then did diddle my pussy after maybe seeing something raunchy on TV or a handsome man and contact in the shop. I got up and closed my door. “Do you want a closer smell?” I offered slipping the plain white panties down off my feet and spreading my legs on the couch. I slid down to the edge and leaned back lifting my skirt up. I watched Pep sniff my hairy slit. Cherishing my traditional long straggle of black hairs which Cedric forbade me to trim and how beautifully forested they look, when I understand all the youngsters are gong bald, because of over use of porn. Pep begin to lap his thick tongue over my quite pronounced labia. “Oh my god,” I moaned feeling the dog bury his tongue between my pussy lips.

I rolled off my house coat, bra and for some reason leaving my silk slip on, letting Pep lick his rough tongue over me. I rubbed my fingers over my tits, my dark sturdy nipples huge in the swift chilling and my touch, savouring the warm and wet sensation of the dog eating my cunt. Look at me telling this tale, using such lewd words as cunt. It was all new to me, but I’d read somewhere about such things and was randy anyway, after reading a spicy passage in the novel. I lifted my feet off the carpet and placed them on the edge of the couch cushion spreading my legs farther apart. Immediately Pep’s tongue buried deep within my labia folds and more juices leaked out onto him. Pulling the hood up off my clit with my fingers I let him continue licking my fully exposed and rigid glistening bud. His tongue licked hungrily at my clitoris running all over my cunt lips, drenching me.

“Oh my god, Pep, oh you’re such a good boy,” I groaned as I felt my body shudder with orgasm. When I came, my pussy juices dripped down to the crack of my bottom and he continued to lap his tongue over that up to my clit, I nearly knocked him off as my legs spasmed, thrashing wildly. “Oh that feels so good.”

I looked down at Pep’s stiff cock. It was hanging down, heavy and pinkish red. The sight of his big member and the bounce of his balls aroused me so much. “Looks like you’ve got a hard on for me.” Flinging caution and decorum to the wind, I slid down to the carpet and grasped his sticky hard cock in one hand. With the other I stroked his balls gently. They were hot, full and heavy. Pep stood panting obviously enjoying my touch. His penis was red into pink, marbled with a million tiny veins feeling so hot to the touch. My pussy ached just holding him. Running my fingers over the length of his tool, I noticed the wide girth near the root and wondered what it would feel like to have him inside me ... it was an erect cock. A clear liquid began oozing out of the tip of his penis as I smoothed my hand over it.

I leaned forward to taste the dog’s fluid now dripping steadily out of his cock. It was warm and thin tasting salty metallic with his musk. I let the fluid dribble out of my mouth and down my chin while it continued flowing. Then I put as much of Pep’s cock into mouth as I could, circling my tongue up and down its shaft, sliding my lips tightly over it. With my other hand, I reached down to finger myself feeling the wetness of my pussy drip out and down my inner thighs. I continued to suck and stroke the dog’s cock thinking about letting him mount me. My sex throbbed wanting him to fuck me so badly.