Beth and the Angry Fireman

Some said it was poison. Some said it was nagging. All the locals knew for sure was that Beth Laveau's husband was dead. Since then, the old crone retired to a modest seaside cottage outside town.

After two forgotten years Beth broke the silence and placed a room for rent on Craigslist. I braved the steep hills, peeling paint and gnarled hedges to inquire within.

My knock was answered by a squat gray haired 50ish hippie with thick granny glasses and a loose sunflower print dress.

"Namaste" she greeted. "I'm Beth. You must be Davie."

"Yes Ma'am" I replied. "David Brenner at your service."

She invited me to her cozy kitchen where she poured us each a steaming cup of licorice jasmine tea.

"You work?" she asked.

"Yes, part time at Happy Wings." I answered.

"What do you do with the rest of your time?"

"Study. I'm in my final year at U-Tech."

She nodded.

"Campus is a bit of a hike. Why would you want to live out here?"

"I need a quiet place to focus on exams and assignments. I'm tired of cramped dorms, loud music and beer pong."

She wrinkled her nose like she'd just smelled bullshit.

"Tired of beer pong? What kind of college boy are you?"

"The kind who's desperate not to flunk."

She narrowed her gray eyes and stared me down like a naughty child.

"No drinking, no drugs, no girls. You have your bedroom. The kitchen and bathroom are shared. Rest of the house is off limits unless I need you for an occasional chore. Rent is due on the last day of the month at 5 PM sharp, no exceptions! Agreed?"

I paid a deposit, signed the lease, and unloaded the boxes from my green Dodge Spirit.

Night came quick. The crashing distant waves lulled me to sleep.

***

I should have stayed in the dorms!

The loud music and chug chug chants had nothing on Beth's morning yoga routine. By 6 AM the house reeked of tear inducing incense and the air roared with new age synth music. Her mantra was a mishmash of fake Hindi and Baptist tongue talk that scared the seagulls from the roof.

Thank God she stayed in her room.

Her "occasional" chores were near daily demands to paint the house, clear the gutters, trim the hedges and mow the lawn.

One day she banged on my door.

"Davie... DAAAAVIE."

I closed my textbook and turned the handle. She held a pair of grass stained Nikes by the heels.

"Who's are these?" She demanded.

"Mine"

"What are they doing by the front door?"

I sighed.

"Don't be that way with me mister. Your things belong in your room."

She tossed my shoes in the middle of the floor and slammed the door.

Another morning I woke to her knocking like a deranged mobster. She opened my door before I could reach the handle.

"Do you know what today is?" She asked.

"Tuesday?" I replied.

She scowled.

"It's the 30th. Last day of the month. Where's the rent?"

"I'm picking up my check after class. You'll have it tonight." I assured.

She scoffed.

"Tonight? You either bring me money by 5 PM sharp or you'll be picking clothes off the lawn and sleeping in your rusted green shitmobile."

I sighed.

"Fine."

She cocked a finger at my forehead.

"Next time look at my face when I'm talking."

I had been until she said that. Her shapeless dresses left much to the imagination, but nothing worth thinking about.

***

After three months my grades improved, but Beth made home a hellscape. No longer content with landscaping, she recruited me to fix dripping taps, hang pictures and install towel hooks in the bathroom.

My best was never enough. Taps still dripped, pictures were always "crooked". She made me reposition the towel hooks several times until they reached the exact height and angle she desired.

She kept accusing me of checking her out. If I averted my eyes she'd claim I was ogling through a reflective surface. I wanted to grab her by the face and scream "Get over yourself".

Instead I left during morning yoga and hung out at work until bedtime.

One day she called my phone during lunch.

"Come quick. There's an intruder in my room."

"Did you call the cops?" I asked.

She huffed.

"It's not a person... but there's tiny feet scratching on the wall."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

Her breathing shallowed.

"Kill it, chase it away, I don't care. Just call me when it's done."

Goddammit!

I knelt on the floor beside her bed. The intruder lay limp in a mousetrap behind her nightstand. As I disposed of the rodent I noticed a grainy printed photo poking from her overstuffed drawer. The background looked familiar so I pulled it out.

There was a sink and mirror similar to ours. I noticed a orange and red trimmed Happy Wings uniform crumpled on the toilet.

In the foreground a naked young man stood sideways holding a towel over his face. His genitals hung over a pineapple tattooed on his inner thigh.

It was my tattoo.

I ran to the bathroom. The new towel hook held a thin layer of peeling black electrical tape. I peeled further revealing a Wi-Fi card and flashing red battery light. I finally noticed the black pinprick recessed in the brown plastic.

It was a hidden camera. The old crone had been spying on me.

***

I awoke unsure of what to feel. It was bad enough being her grounds keeper and handy man. Now this?

By noon I wondered if that footage was shared within a network of old crones who fucked broomsticks and cast spells. Or worse, uploaded to a hub site where potential employers could watch.

I needed an adult. Someone from the housing authority. Maybe the police.

But why would they care?

After all, these were security cameras. Without them a burglar could slide through the bathroom window to rape and murder us both. Compromising footage was the price of safety, especially when it was merely an innocent shot of a young man drying his hair.

But what if it wasn't innocent?

That night after work I undressed in the shower. My clothing flew over the magnetic glass door one stitch at a time. I warmed the water a hair below steaming and scrubbed the grease from my pores.

Next, I turned my back to the faucet and slathered my dick with conditioner. It firmed and swelled as it shuffled between my fingers.

I hated that Beth spied, but would it be bad if it were Jenny, the Happy Wings dishwasher? I thought of her blond frizzy hair and ripe nubile chest. The way her waist bent when she drained the sink.

My dick surged like an angry fireman. I rinsed myself, shut off the water and pushed the glass door open.

Show time!

I toweled off making sure to look away from the camera, but made a point to keep my hard on in view of the lens. I threw on my U-Tech shorts and headed to bed.

If Beth printed another naked picture she'd probably shove it in that same drawer. I'd retrieve it when she left for the ashram and confront her when she returned.

Sure enough the soft grind of her Epson played before bed. Minutes later her snores scored the hall.

Or was it a loss of breath?

***

Next morning I stumbled to the refrigerator hoping for at least a drumstick from last night's shift. Beth often stole the tastier bits and left me a box of crumb crusted bones.

Instead I smelled a medley of bacon, coffee and scrambled eggs. The range fan hummed as the frying pans sizzled. Beth smiled and whistled as she carried the French press to the tiny table.

She invited me to sit and piled my plate with biscuits, meats, and pancakes. I refused the eggs but got a healthy scoop anyway.

"Eat up Davie." She admonished. "Growing boys need their strength."

"You know I'm 22, right?" I replied.

She smiled.

"That's not what I meant."

She returned to the stove.

I noticed her shapeless sundress cinched at the waist and shared a rare glimpse of her figure.

The crone had okay tits.

***

I never confronted Beth or called the cops. Instead I unleashed the angry fireman whenever she got too bitchy or demanding. Her nocturnal breathing became a signal for a hot meal and a chore free day. That semester my grades almost reached the Dean's List.

In time she cinched more of her dresses. Her tits went from 'Okay' to welcome. They weren't pert like Jenny's, but those hanging grapefruits drew my interest when we spoke.

I was cruising toward graduation until February 27th when my engine died 3 exits from home. I used a chunk of March's rent to cover the tow and repairs.

Tomorrow was the 28th. I didn't get paid until the day after. I had to make Beth forget to collect, but how?

That night in the shower I lotioned my hand and conjured a fantasy. Happy Wings closes. The manager assigns Jenny and I to clean the grill after everyone clocks out. We do shots of Peppermint Schnapps between scraping and scouring the charred flattop.

Jenny strains her shoulder. As I knead and press her knots she complains that her uniform chafes. She raises her arms as I remove her shirt.

I work my fingers under her bra strap and ease it off her shoulder. She unhooks it from the front and frees her nubile buds. I stiffen her nipples between my fingers as she moans.

I kiss her neck and notice the pineapple tattoo under her collar bone. I offer to show mine. She agrees. I unzip my pants...

By now I was in the shower hard as a Yankee candle. I snapped open the shower door and strutted across the tiny bathroom ready for my close up.

But this time I didn't get dressed.

Instead I sat on the toilet, faced the towel hooks, closed my eyes and tossed back my head.

I slid my thumb across my fireman's helmet in short slow strokes and continued the fantasy...

I strip my work slacks. She turns around. Only this time she's no longer Jenny.

She's Beth.

In my mind Her pale, flabby body almost shocks me soft, but those tits thrust me back in the game. She sees my pineapple and kneads it with her fingers as I jack off and gawk at her mammoth nipples. Her fingers reach my balls. With a final grunt I send waves of sperm into her aged bosom...

In real life. My balls sprayed the bathroom wall and seed dripped to the floor. My groin felt like each sperm was a taser dart exploding with current. The shock traveled up my torso until my brain dazzled with sparks. My eyes clamped tight as red fireworks popped and clapped behind the lids.

I don't know how long it took to open my eyes and unhand my tool. I came so hard it's a wonder I got up at all. Somehow I found the strength to wad toilet paper and clean my mess.

I staggered to my room and passed out with my face in a pillow.

***

By 9 AM the only sound I'd heard from my landlord was a faint moan from her bedroom... Then another...and another not as faint.

Still dressed I sleuthed to the kitchen. Along the way I heard her ragged panting and slippery fingers push to a climax.

I made coffee and sipped at the table. By my second cup Beth emerged with a lopsided smile bursting with guilt.

Her plaid housecoat nearly spilled open as she reached for the cupboard and fetched a flowered mug. She emptied the French press with her cleavage inches from my face.

"Thanks for the coffee Davie."

She sipped and shuffled back to her room with the cup. The snug housecoat accentuated the come hither wobble of her ass with every step. The fireman awoke as she returned to her room.

It was madness! Bad enough wanking to the old crone's tits, but her ass? I felt ashamed, but the fireman grew angrier with every bedroom moan.

She paused. A mechanical buzz followed.

I pictured her fluffy ass sliding against the wet spot in her sheets. A purple jackrabbit probing her sex. The other hand holding a printout of my exploding cock.

The fireman was furious!

I paced the kitchen like a backstage actor breathing deep to calm my groin. The urge subsided until Beth squealed and the fireman rankled my sweatpants. I marched to my bedroom to bust into a sock.

The fireman said no!

Instead I stripped in the hall and entered the bathroom. I leered directly into the camera and presented my fireman like a first place trophy. His pinkish red coat glowed with approval.

This time I didn't need fantasy. Beth appeared the moment I closed my eyes. The precum lubed my fingers better than conditioner.

For the first time I pictured her pussy. Short brown hairs patched with gray. Juices greasing the path to her womb. Quivering lips begging to be split. I cast the towels to the ground and fapped my fireman inches from the hidden lens.

Suddenly the bathroom door flew open. I turned as Beth untied her housecoat and shucked it to the ground. Her nipples jutted as her fuzzy clamshell peaked between her doughy thighs.

She placed a hand under my chin and lifted my head.

"Davie." She said "Look at my face when I'm talking."

She puckered her mouth. My lips pressed her as our tongues entwined. My hands wrapped her waist. Her nipples poked my stomach. She ground her crotch against my pineapple. I grabbed fistfuls of her endless ass.

Beth pulled away and bent over the counter. I stood behind dispatching the fireman to her dripping cunt. Her walls gaped as I entered. She yelped as I slid further inside. Once I reached the base she enveloped me like a flytrap.

I stared in the mirror as each thrust bounced her plump tits against her chest. When our eyes met through the reflection I locked into her gaze and followed the silent command to fuck harder. She grunted with every slap of our thighs.

I groaned. Her eyes begged me not to finish. That was fine. I wanted to savor every stroke. My fingers dug into her flesh.

She nodded as we fucked. I adjusted my speed to match. Soon her neck bobbled like a horny jack in the box. Her eyes widened. Her head dropped back.

She was close.

I drilled as she squinted and her legs stiffened. My eyes stayed locked until she closed. For a moment her body fell limp and a deep breath fled her lungs.

Seconds later she thrashed and cried as her cunt tightened. I tried to pummel the shrinking hole, but her stiff muscles spat me out. She turned around, sat on the counter and grabbed the back of my head.

"I have a chore for you Davie."

Beth spread her legs and laid back with her back against the mirror. She guided my lips to her pungent snatch. I knelt and smooched while my nose circled her clit.

Her cunt tasted like fresh baked birthday cake. I salivated, she dripped, my fireman drooled.

Beth clutched my ear and steered my tongue to her neediest corners. My taste buds studied ever bump and ridge in her slit. She slumped further into the counter and crossed her ankles behind my back.

She stiffened and dug her nails painfully into my ears. Her thighs hammered my temples. She squealed her throat raw as the fluids leaked from her snatch. Her clit jittered against my nose until the tender flesh expelled my face.

I stared into Beth's sex crazed eyes. She leaned forward and tossed back her shoulders for a kiss. the moment our lips met she grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to the ground. Thank god I landed on the towel.

Still on top, she lifted her pelvis and trapped the fireman in her snatch. Her hands returned to my shoulders pressing me into the floor.

I couldn't thrust. Couldn't move my arms. She smothered my mouth with hers until I couldn't breathe. Tried to fight back but her weight wouldn't allow it.

I reclaimed her eyes. The sex craze had flourished into full on possession. Her tits slapped my face as she rode like an ecstatic shaman.

My head lightened. My consciousness faded as I left my body. My limbs tried to thrash but the strength had fled. Beth still refused to let me breathe.

Then, it all returned in a flash!

My fireman erupted filthy jets of cum into Beth's hungry cunt. I screamed a mishmash of fake Hindi and Baptist tongue talk as the endless waves filled her womb. I never reached Nirvana, but at least learned how it felt.

Beth released my mouth and crawled off my hips. I remained on the floor too stunned to move. She smiled and stroked my chest hairs.

"Don't forget. Tomorrow's the 29th. Rent is due at 5 PM sharp. No exceptions."