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Being new to St. Petersburg and unable to afford a fancy motel on my meager writer's budget, I searched the local paper for a cheap rooming house. After almost giving up on finding anything affordable, I finally spied a small ad in the classifieds under rentals. "Room To Rent, Day Or Weekly Rates, Single Men Only, Apply In Person". The rates quoted looked like something my thin pocketbook could stand so after driving by the place a couple of times, I decided to give it a shot.

Since the large, old, rambling house with its moss-draped, live oak trees in the yard was located in what appeared to be one of the older, but better-kept sections of town, I naturally expected its owners to be an elderly couple who were trying to supplement their social security by renting rooms.

Imagine my surprise when a gorgeous brunette answered my knock on the massive front door. She looked to be in perhaps her late thirties or early forties, with an awesome pair of breasts. The skimpy bikini she had on was just enough to have kept her from getting arrested for indecent exposure had she been out in public. It barely covered her areola.

She let me know in a quick hurry, that I'd interrupted her sun bathing, and I apologized profusely while coping an eyeful of her voluptuous, over ripe body in the thong bikini. Finally I made a complete fool of myself by asking for the proprietor or proprietress. Uhh, her parents... Uhh the people with a room for rent.

"You're looking at her,? she chuckled, her tone mellowing somewhat. "Weekly or daily rates?"

I told her I planned to be in town for at least a month and asked if she'd cut the price if I paid in advance. She agreed, nonchalantly stuffing the C-note I handed her into her deep, tanned cleavage as she ushered me, my portable typewriter and beat-up, old suitcase inside the mausoleum-like coolness of the old house and then upstairs to my room.

"The room has a bath," she said. "No boom boxes allowed and no pets. The TV?s in the living room downstairs. The phone?s in the kitchen. You can make coffee in the room, but no cooking. Smoking's O.K., but no cigars. Drinking's O.K. too. Just don't get so soused that I have to call the cops."

Following her up the long staircase, the sensuous roll of her tight, round, almost naked ass cheeks mesmerized me as she led me to my room. The room was huge with a canopied bed, nightstand, small writing desk and chair. The room even had a pair of French doors that opened onto a small balcony. The little balcony overlooked the back patio and a swimming pool, which were surrounded by a high, privacy fence. The bathroom had one of those old, claw-foot tubs that are perfect for long, contemplative soaking and thinking, among other things. I couldn't beat this with a stick, I mused, continuing to steal glances at my stacked landlady.

"Why don't you get unpacked and I'll check back on you in a few minutes," she purred seductively. Pausing at the door, she inquired, "Are you a bourbon drinker? I make a pretty good mint julep. I grow my own mint."

"I sure am and that sounds like a plan," I replied. "By the way," she added. "I'm Jane Merriweather. What's your name?" "Rick... Rick Lancer," I replied.

She left and I got unpacked. It didn't take long because I didn't bring much with me. I didn't plan on needing much in the way of clothes. What the hell was a gorgeous stacked babe like her doing running a rooming house? I wondered.

She returned in a moment with two mint juleps in tall, frosted glasses. This time she'd changed into a white, linen beach shirt that came just below her shapely buttocks. When she handed me my drink and plopped down on the bed, I caught a brief glimpse of her dark pubic hair and realized she'd taken off her bikini. She must've figured I was curious about her circumstances by now because she launched right in as to how she came to be running a boarding house. Jane told me she used to be a topless dancer and that she also modeled for men's magazines for a while. I began to recall her face and voluptuous body. She went on to say that her parents had bribed her to give up the business as she referred to it, by establishing her in the boarding house and providing her with a substantial allowance on the side. She added that she figured it was about time to forego modeling anyhow as nature and time seemed to be relentlessly attacking her face and figure.