The Firefighter's Woman

by Loki Renard

Her butt was still sore from the spanking he’d given her, not in a horribly painful way, but in a noticeable ache that reminded her of him and what he’d done. She spent the day on the couch, curled up with Odin watching reruns of old television shows and feeling sorry for herself. John had gone out somewhere, he hadn’t told her where and she hadn’t asked.

  Her heart skipped a beat as the front door opened and then shut, heralding his arrival home. No matter how miserable she was, John had a direct line to the core of her. She couldn’t help but react to his presence.

  “Still on the couch,” he noted as he walked into the lounge. “Isn’t this where I left you this morning?”

  “Yeah,” she shrugged. “And?”

  “I’m a little worried you’re turning into a cat,” he said with a wink. “But that can’t be the case because Odin’s not barking his head off and he hasn’t chased you up a tree.”

  Sarah managed a wan smile. “Meow,” she said faintly, not putting any real heart into the joke. She felt so heavy and sad it was difficult to put any energy forth even if she’d wanted to—which she didn’t.

  “I have something for you,” he said, fetching a box from the hall. “I don’t know if it’s everything you wanted. It probably isn’t, but it’s everything I could find.”

  He put it on the coffee table and suddenly Sarah felt nervous. “What is it?”

  “Go on, look,” he said. “Nothing in there will bite.”

  She opened the box and found it stacked with personal items. Photo albums, pictures from the mantelpiece, a jewelry box, the little urns that had stood on either side of her parents’ wedding photos, the stuffed bear she’d slept with since she was small. It was there. All there.

  Sarah looked at him with tears welling in her eyes. “How did you get this?”

  “I went in and looked for anything that seemed significant,” he said. “If there’s something specific missing from this, tell me and I’ll see if I can get it tomorrow.”

  She folded the cardboard flaps back down, closing her memories up again.

  “Oh, so you’re allowed in?” She tried not to sound snotty, but she did.

  “I had a team ready to help me if I needed to get out. And I know how to handle myself,” he said. “You don’t. Are you really going to give me attitude right now, Sarah?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. Thank you. Thank you for getting this. Thank you for everything.” She blinked back tears of gratitude and sadness and sniffed, running her palms over her face once, twice, before looking up at him.

  “Listen, John, I’m going to get out of your hair. Between the emergency insurance payout and my own accounts, I have enough money to get a hotel room. I can’t impose on you anymore. It’s not good for either one of us.”

  “I like having you around, Sarah. So does Odin.”

  She smiled a watery smile. “I can’t… we’ll… you know we will…”

  “Have sex?”

  “No! Well, yes… but…” Her face burned red as she stumbled through her admission. “I like you, okay? And if I stay here, I’m going to like you more and more and that won’t end well.”

  “Hey.” John went down on one knee in front of the couch, took her hands in his, and looked into her eyes. “I like you too, Sarah. I like you a whole lot. It’s okay if you like me back.”

  “It isn’t,” she said in certain tones. “I’m not… I don’t… ugh!” She pulled one hand free of his and wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. “This is complicated.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” he said kindly. “You’re fighting yourself, Sarah. I think you like staying here too, and there’s no reason why you should leave so soon. It’s only been a few days. You’re still in shock. You need a little more time to really get back on your feet.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I just… I don’t know.”

  *

  As he tried to put together the puzzle that was the pretty young lady on his couch, John knew he’d have to be patient. The box she’d already pushed to the side was obviously a bittersweet thing to have. She’d wanted those items more than anything, but there was obviously a lot of grief tied up in them. He’d felt waves of sadness himself as he’d picked up the silver urns marked with her mother’s and father’s names on them. No girl should live alone aside from the ashes on the mantelpiece, and yet that was obviously precisely how Sarah had been living for the past couple of years at least. The dates on the urns had told their own sad stories. Her mother had died when she was very small, her father just a few years ago. By his reckoning, Sarah had been alone in the world since graduating high school. He guessed most of her friends had probably gone off to college, but she hadn’t gone anywhere. She’d stayed stuck in the house where she’d grown up, surrounded by shades of the past and with no thought to the future.

  Still, none of that really explained why she was talking about leaving. Maybe something in the box held some significance he wasn’t aware of. Maybe she was just too damn independent to accept his help this way.

  “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said, turning her face away from him. “You’re too nice.”

  “I’m too nice? Sarah, I’ve whipped your butt with a belt. Is that too nice?”

  “Well…” she said with a little grin that made him smile too. She might not have enjoyed being spanked, but she did seem to enjoy being reminded about it. She had a little squirm going already, signaling the beginning of a change in mood from sad to aroused.

  “Is that what I have to do to get you to stay? Tell you that you’re a naughty girl, and you’re grounded and you’re not going anywhere until I say so?” He lowered his voice into an authoritarian tone and saw the nervous little smile on her face spread wider.

  “Is that what you’re saying?” Her voice sounded higher, softer, more trusting.

  John came to a decision then. Sarah was a beautiful, smart, independent girl, but she didn’t need to be treated that way. What she wanted and desired was someone who would take charge. He could do that.

  “Mhm. If you so much as set foot outside that front door without my permission, you’ll find yourself with your panties down across my knee, Sarah.”

  He was being somewhat playful, but he also meant what he was saying. She needed this from him. She needed someone to set limits, to help her to trust where she was too afraid to.

  “Well,” she said with a little shrug. “I guess I don’t have a choice, then, do I?”

  “No,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hands. “You don’t.”

  Sarah rose from the couch, a smile on her face. He watched her, sensing that she was about to test him. Sure enough, she crossed the room and put her hand on the front doorknob.

  “So, if I step outside now, without your permission, you’ll what?”

  “Spank your butt,” he growled in a deep voice, which only made her grin more.

  “Well,” she said with that bright, reckless smile. “I guess there’s no time like the present to test the theory.”

  “Trust me, Sarah, my hand meeting your butt is not a theory.”

  She turned the door handle and opened the door, standing in the entryway beaming like a Cheshire cat.

  “Sarah,” he said softly. “Come here.”

  She hesitated on the precipice of disobedience, torn between the desire to disobey and the allure of surrender.

  He lifted his finger and crooked it at her, repeating the words in a tone that was not so much stern as it was confident. “Come here, Sarah.”

  She bit her lower lip, suddenly nervous. She didn’t come to him; instead she twisted where she stood, back and forth like a wind chime twisting slowly in a breeze of emotion rather than weather. John didn’t repeat himself, he just kept his eyes locked on her until she began to shift slowly, and then her feet moved toward him and with slow steps she approached him.

  “Good girl,” he praised, reaching f
or her hand. He drew her down over his lap. She didn’t resist physically, but she did let out a little whimper of complaint.

  “I did what you asked.”

  “Mhm, and now I’m going to give you what you wanted.” He flipped her skirt up over her back and smoothed his hand over her bottom in slow, teasing strokes that were more massaging than punitive. He was pleased with her, and he wanted her to know it.

  His fingers drifted over the hem of her panties and slowly began to draw them down, peeling them over her beautiful cheeks. He loved her bottom. He loved her body. He loved her deeply and he hoped she could feel that in his touch.

  She was very still over his lap; he almost thought she was holding her breath. He pulled her panties all the way down, over her soft thighs and past her knees. They fell the rest of the way onto the floor, leaving her bared to him. Her legs parted a little and he saw the tight little bud of her bottom hole and the full mound of her pussy, her gold down-covered lips. She was perfectly formed and for long minutes he did nothing but brush his fingers over the pale skin of her bottom and her lower lips. As he did, he could see moisture beginning to bead on the seam, the spot where her lips parted to reveal the entrance of her body. She made little moaning sounds, and her hips began to dance slowly. He let his fingers slide from her outer lips and he found that welling place where her body invited him in. First one finger, finding that nice little wet niche and pressing inside. The walls of her pussy wrapped around his digit, embracing him as she let out a little sigh of contentment.

  Sarah may not have been intimately experienced, but her body knew precisely what it wanted. He watched her hips roll slowly as he pressed a second finger inside her and then stilled his hand. His cock was hard and he would have loved nothing more than to take her, but that wasn’t what she needed.

  He left his fingers inside her and with his other hand, began lightly peppering her cheeks with soft swats that raised a very light pink hue on her skin. It was almost certain that the light slaps didn’t hurt a bit, but that didn’t stop Sarah from moaning her pleasure and almost simultaneously complaining.

  “I was good,” she whimpered as his palm made contact with her bottom.

  “Were you? You tested me as far as you thought wouldn’t get you into trouble,” he said, thrusting his fingers deeper and slapping her bottom harder. Sarah let out a wail and thrust her hips back against his hand. “You were being a little naughty, and I think a little naughtiness deserves at least a small spanking.” He slapped her bottom again, hard enough to leave a red hand print across both cheeks.

  She yelped in the cute way she had and her legs scissored, which had the effect of making her wet pussy squirm around his fingers. Her lips were gripping his digits quite tightly, and he could feel her inner walls trying to draw him deeper. She needed to be fucked properly.

  John pulled his fingers slowly out of her pussy and pulled her upright on his lap, one of her legs straddling either side of his waist. He reached down and unzipped his fly, letting his cock spring free of the tight confines of his jeans. It rose against her pussy, finding her clit unerringly. Sarah shyly avoided his gaze as he put one hand on her hip and used the other to move his cock against her clit, tapping her lightly there.

  “Tell me what you want, Sarah,” he said in soft, but commanding tones.

  She let out a little whimpering noise, which made him grin. He loved watching her squirm, especially when it was possible to push the head of his cock against her wet slit and feel her rub herself all over him. She was so wet and slick and hot that he could barely restrain himself from pulling her down on his cock in one hard thrust.

  “Tell me, Sarah,” he said again. “Where do you want my cock?”

  The hot blush across her face was priceless as her eyes darted from his, down to the place where their flesh was meeting, and up again.

  “Inside me…” She said the words in a small voice, but that was all he needed. He thrust his hips slowly upward in a smooth stroke, pulling her down on his cock as he went. Sarah was a tight fit, but her wetness made his cock slide deep inside her grasping walls. He watched the expression on her face as she was filled, her mouth dropping open in a little ‘o’ of need, her cheeks and neck flushing with desire, her eyes sparkling brighter blue.

  And then he was inside her and she was wrapped around him and he began to urge her back and forth slowly at first and then faster. The position gave him ample access to her bottom, which he spanked lightly with every thrust.

  “Be a good girl and fuck me,” he drawled, smiling as he felt her cunt clench in response to the words. “Show me how good you can be riding my cock.”

  Sarah did not need much more urging; she began to move against him, her hips swirling, her thighs lifting her gorgeous ass up and down as she rode him with strokes that quickly became fast and demanding. John pulled her t-shirt up and her bra down, accessing her sweet breasts, her hard little nipples presented to him perfectly as he cupped her ass and began running his tongue across one and then the other, whipping Sarah into further frenzy.

  She rode him with a carnal desperation, as if fucking herself on him would chase away the darkness he so often saw in her eyes. She was clinging to him and he held her back just as firmly, meeting her thrust for thrust and finally, pinning her hips in place, stilling her on his cock.

  “John!” She whined his name, trying to wriggle around, but he put a stop to that with one hard slap to her bottom.

  “Stay still,” he commanded gruffly. His cock was as hard as it had ever been and he knew he was close to coming.

  She pouted, but only for a second. John tipped her back slightly, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright, the other on her hip to steady her as he started thrusting harder and faster than she ever could have done, his cock pounding inside her with stroke after stroke, which made her breasts bounce and her mouth fall open in a near continuous wail. This was no longer lovemaking, this was a hard, carnal fuck. She needed it as much as he did. She needed to feel him pound her, to make her pussy his. He could feel her pussy melting with her juices, and the rest of her body going tense as her climax came rolling up through her. His matched hers and with a growl of pleasure he threw caution to the wind and slammed deep inside her, pulled her hard against his chest and filled her with his cum, spurt after spurt of his hot essence shooting deep inside her bare cunt.

  For several minutes they sat locked together, his cock softening slowly inside her, his cum slowly leaking out onto his lap.

  “You came inside me,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Yes,” he said, meeting her eyes, searching them for a reaction. “I did.”

  His cock slid from her completely as he put his hand between their bodies, scooped some of the cum from her pussy and rubbed it gently around her clit in a soft, wet massage, which made her shiver and bite her lower lip.

  “You’re mine,” he murmured softly to her as he rubbed his seed into her pussy. “Mine to fuck. Mine to fill. You’re going to have my cum inside you a lot, Sarah. Understand?”

  Her eyes were filled with emotion as she looked at him with a little smile on her face. “Yessir,” she said in a breathy little voice.

  He tapped his fingers lightly against her clit and watched her buck. Finally, they had an understanding.

  Chapter Eight

  If only it was as easy as an orgasm. If only the hot lashes that remained for hours after John put them there with his belt could chase away the demons that came to her when she was alone. If only life was simple and all sorrows could be healed by sex, Sarah might have lived happily ever after from that moment forth.

  Unfortunately, once the heat of the spanking and the glow of orgasm faded, once she was alone for a little bit, the old darkness seemed to creep back in, and a new sadness from loss. She tried to put a brave face on it when John was around, but whenever he left her alone she would bury her face in Odin’s fur and sob until the tears would no longer come. The dog seemed tolerant of her emotional
outbursts, occasionally licking her hand or head, but otherwise did not interfere in her grief.

  John was involved in the cleanup effort and as a result he often ducked out for a couple of hours at a time. He’d given her instructions to call his cell if she needed anything, and she knew well enough that she wasn’t supposed to go out, but she couldn’t help herself. Staring at the walls, listening to the talking heads on the television blather on about rebuilding after the tornado, about lives lost and lives saved… she couldn’t take it anymore.

  She picked up her jacket, shoved her cards into her pockets, and almost walked out the door. Just as she put her hand on the doorknob, she hesitated, went back to the kitchen and scribbled a note. Then she left.

  *

  John had worried when he’d come home to a Sarah-less house, but he was relieved to see she’d at least left him a note: At the bar

  At least this time he could call… “Oh, for…” His curse trailed off into an impatient sigh. Sarah’s phone was sitting on the counter not far from the note. Oversight? Or deliberate attempt to avoid him?

  Sighing, John crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash, shaking his head. As usual, Sarah left more questions than answers. Which bar? He hoped it was the same one he’d taken her to on the night the tornado hit, otherwise he was going to have to comb a whole lot of nightspots.

  The local bar was only a few minutes from the house. He could have walked, just like Sarah probably had, but John took the truck anyway, suspecting that he might be in for some cleanup duties where Sarah was concerned. Upon arrival, he went straight to the bartender. Knowing Sarah, she would have made an impression on the young man with half his hair shaved off.

  “Have you seen a woman? Blond, pretty, but snarky?”

  “Misery guts?” the bartender said with a smirk. “She’s over there.” He pointed to where Sarah was draped over the end of the bar, slumped on a stool. She was wearing a pink sweater and pre-ripped jeans, no makeup to speak of. She’d obviously not gone out for fun, but for a serious drinking session. As he walked toward her, she didn’t notice him. She was too busy staring into the depths of a bottle of beer as if the secrets of the universe were contained in the deep brown glass.