Her eyes were closed maybe a minute before she was woken up by her doorbell. But even in the minutes’ worth of sleep, she could feel the wet grime and the weight of the dirt on her. Is it the guilt that causing her to have these dreams? Or is it… before she could complete the thought the doorbell rang again. She pulled herself out of bed. The air in the room is cold against her sweaty body. She goes to move the hair out of her face but it is clinging to her forehead with sweat. She feels like she is going to throw up. Her throat feels dry and polluted as if some kind of filth was coating it. She pushes nausea down and opens the door.
The old man across the street was standing on her doorstep. Up until this point she had never spoken to him. Sure she had let him see a great deal of her, but that was it. The fact that he was on her doorstep now felt like an intrusion. “Can I help you?” She asked. The old man licked his dry lips and stared at her check for a few moments. Jessie looked down and realized the sweat had made her shirt transparent and her breasts were almost in full display. She suddenly wished she had grabbed her bathrobe. “Ahem.” She cleared her throat to get his attention. “Oh! Um… I’m Hal. I live across the street.” He said. Then he was silent as if he was expecting a response. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up again. “It’s just, my wife is visiting her mom you see, and I couldn’t help but notice you flirting with me almost every morning. And..” He let the and trail off and let his eyes do the rest of the talking.
“Flirting?” She said in disbelief. She thought to herself that she may have put on a little show for him ever so often but that’s not the same as flirting. Is it? She realized that it could have been taken that way. For a second, she felt bad for the old man. She guessed in a way she had led him on. “I think there has been a miss understanding. I’m married.” She said thinking this would cool the old timer’s lust. “So am I.” He said with a grin that showed off his perfect dentures. He then placed a hand on Jessie’s shoulders and pushed her back into her house. With his right foot, he closed her door behind him.
He was an older man, had to be above 60 to Jessies eyes, but he was still strong. His grip on her shoulder was tight. “What are you doing?” She yelled at him. The yell made her already aching head scream and she almost passed out but realized now would be the worse possible time to be unconscious. “Oh, I just want to try out what you’ve been advertising.” He said and began to work his belt with the hand that wasn’t gripping Jessie.
She pulled free of his grip just as his pants came loose. He was wearing old worn-out boxers, his penis was already erect and poking through the opening. “Mister. I wasn’t advertising anything. And even if I was, that doesn’t give you the right to come in here and try to take it by force.” She made her way to the kitchen counter. In an awkward walk with his pants around his ankles he followed. His erect penis bobbing up and down as he walked. For a second, she wanted to laugh at the ridiculous sight. But this was no time for laughter. She thought it was a time to get scared, but that emotion didn’t come either. What did come down whatever pipe leads things like joy and sorrow was pure anger.
He was on her now. She could feel his manhood pressed against her stomach. “What? Am I not good enough for a slut like you?” He said as he pressed himself hard against her. He was humping her stomach like a teenager on a first date who wasn’t sure where to put it. Her hands felt around the counter. “Is that it? You let every other man have a turn in you but not me?” His hands were now working at her pajama bottom ties. Her hand found her granite cutting board. The stone shattered when it made contact with her neighbor’s head. He fell to her floor. Stunned but not out. Which was good. She was glad he was awake. You can’t learn anything if you’re nocked out. You learn even less if you are dead.
She stood over the old man. His dick was still hard, but it was beginning to shrink. “Well, that won't due.” She said to no one in particular and brought her heal down hard on the man shrinking member. He screamed and curled up into a ball. Blood was coming from his fingers. She figured something important had ruptured. The old man drug himself across the floor. “You. You bitch…” He managed to say in between sobs. “I’m… I’m going to call the cops…” He said as he turned over on his hands and knees to crawl away. She planted a foot hard between his legs and into the old fella's balls. The thin layer of cloth of his boxers offered little protection. “No, you’re not.” She said as he yelped and fell on his face. She could hear a crack and realized his dentures broke from hitting the floor. Her suspicions were confirmed when a fake tooth rolled out from under her not so unneighborly neighbor. This made her laugh. Her head hurt to laugh, but it was worth it.
“What are you laughing at Bitch?” The old-timer managed to say surprising well with a mouth full of busted up teeth. “I said, No, You’re not. You see, you tried to rape me…” Before she can finish the old man spoke up. “No one will believe that. Not a little slut like you. Just offering it up to whoever wants it. Jessie reached on a counter next to her and grabbed a whine bottle she had been using as a candle holder. The bottle exploded on the ground next to the man’s head. A shard of glass cut his cheek. “Apparently not everybody.” She hissed then laughed again. Her mind felt like it was on fire and she wanted to throw up, but she was furious. And it was pure anger the kind that feels almost as good as joy. “You’re not going to call the police because then you will have to explain to your wife why you were at my house, to begin with. You will have to explain to her, why you had an injury you can only sustain if you have an erect dick. And you want to know why I know you wouldn’t do that? Because you didn’t have the balls to come to overhear and try to get in my pants until she was away from home.”
She was sweating now. The sweat was pouring from her face. The room was spinning. But she wasn’t done. She opened a drawer and pulled out a steak knife. “At this point, I could cut off your dick, fry it up, and serve it to you, and call it self-defense. “ She said. The old man found his feet fast and was out the door before she even knew he was moving. She closed and locked the door behind him. The room began to spin faster. Before she knew what was happening the floor rose to meet her.