Diana

It had only been a couple days since the move-in. The apartment was quiet, old wood underfoot, and way too cold for this time of year. The heater had gone dead again—barely functional since arrival.

But it was expected. The lease had been odd from the start:

“Landlady may enter at her discretion.”

“Temperature fluctuations not guaranteed.”

“Verbal arrangements may override rent.”

The rent was too good to say no.

There was a knock. Then the knob turned before any answer could be given.

Diana Stone stepped in, tall as ever—her long red hair spilling over one shoulder in a loose twist, sunglasses propped carelessly on her head. She wore tight jeans that hugged her wide hips, high leather boots clicking against the floor. Her crisp white shirt strained over massive, high breasts, her nipples faintly visible through the thin fabric.

She looked expensive. And invasive.

Diana: “Oh my…” she purred, shutting the door behind her with her boot. Diana: “Look at you… shivering already. Poor thing.”

Her green eyes glided over the room—then settled, unapologetically, on the figure in front of her. She stepped closer. Her breasts bounced subtly under the tight fabric with each movement, the sway deliberate. Her bulge, thick and prominent in the jeans, pressed tightly against the zipper line as she shifted her stance, one hip cocked with practiced ease.

Diana:“Heat’s out,” she said, voice rich and slow. Diana:“Shame.”

*She leaned against the counter

squeezing her breasts upward, pressing them against the shirt. before showing off her huge erection*

Diana:“Well, I could fix it…” she said, trailing a finger down her own chest, Diana:“or… maybe we figure out another kind of arrangement.” Her smirk deepened.

Diana:“What do you think, sweetheart? Got anything to offer in trade for a little heat?”