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The Firefighter

By: WhipR2



Scott was a veteran firefighter, he'd been on the job for about 15 years and had risen to the rank of Lieutenant. He was in top physical a member of the Firefighter Combat challenge team. Scoot loved his job because he was able to help people in their time of need. 

Scott arrived at work at his usually time 0600, not knowing what the day had in store for him. He planned to do some rope rescue training with his crew as well as putting the FNG through some backbreaking work. First thing was his workout. Today was cardio day and he was ready for his 5 mile run on the treadmill. Scott flipped on the TV in the exercise room and got on the treadmill. He started off slowly and moved quicker and quicker. He was tooling right along watching the news when the tones opened.

"House Fire Box 18-6, report of people trapped and an explosion." Scott immediately jumped off the treadmill and even though he wasn't "working" yet, he was a fireman and always on duty. Scott grabbed his gear and ran to the truck. The Lieutenant he was going to replace was happy to see another person. Budget cuts had reduced the crews from 4 to 3. The truck rolled out of the station with the siren blaring. 

The house was close and the truck was the first on the scene. Scott jumped out and immediately grabbed the heavy irons (a sledge hammer and Haligan), he also grabbed a 300 foot bag of rope. There was a group of people outside saying that a woman, who lived alone, was still in the house. Scott didn't hesitate, while running to the door he turned on his air bottle. He kicked the door opened and entered the house. The fire was coming from the kitchen and licking up the steps. He radio out to the crews outside giving them an update. The Chief told him that the bystanders saw the lady in the 2nd floor window just as the explosion happened. 

Scott saw the fire licking around the steps and knew that he was not going to be able to bring the woman down. His gear would protect him but it would burn her severely. Scott fought through the heat on the steps. feeling the singeing on his neck. He made it up to the second floor. He quickly did a right hand search, nothing in room one, nothing in room two. The smoke started to really bank down, he realized that if the woman was still alive she only had minutes left until she inhaled enough toxins to kill her. He step up his pace...nothing in room 3...he could only see a foot or so in front of him as he entered room four...he reach out and grabbed a leg. He realized that the woman was unconscious. He knew that he was not able to climb down the stairs with her, so he smashed the window out and called down to his crew. They have been unable to get the fire put out. The were trying desperately to get into help but the fire had spread and if they put water on it from outside it may burn Scott and the victim.

Scott grabbed the rope bag and tied it to the four post bed. He picked the woman up and threw her over his shoulder. He jumped out the window just like the rope training he had planned for his crew, that day. But he had never done it with another person on his shoulder. He slid down the rope much faster than he had before. He hit the ground hard and felt his knee pop. He didn't think about his pain he immediately ripped of his mask and gloves. He felt for a pulse and breathing. She was doing both. She was unconscious but alive. The ambulance arrived but there was not a paramedic on board. He was the only paramedic on scene. He gingerly climb into the ambulance, gave her some oxygen and started an IV. They transported to the nearest burn/trauma unit. 

During the transport, the woman became more alert. She didn't know what happened but she knew who she was. She said her name was Jeanie and she was getting ready for work. Scott introduced himself but made no mention of the heroic rescue. Once in the hospital, Jeanie was whisked into the trauma unit where a team of experts looked her up and down, ran tests and wanted her to stay overnight, just to make sure things stayed that way.

Scott on the other hand was getting he knee checked out and the doctors noticed that he had some burns on his neck. The weren't extremely bad but they would need some treatment and he had a tear in his MCL. Scott was placed in a room on the burn unit right next to Jeanie. 

Jeanie was lying in her hospital bed talking with her friends and family. She still didn't know what happened but she had no marks on her and seemed to come out of this relatively unscathed. Her family explained what had happened and that she was rescued from her house by the fire department. She wanted to know who saved her but they had no clue. 

Meanwhile Scott was in minimal pain thanks to the pharmacy, but he was also loopy. His crew was in the room visiting their leader, they were sitting around laughing it up and joking with Scott. They were making fun of the way he jumped out the window and hurt himself. They were making comments about how he jumped out of a window with that beautiful half naked woman over his shoulder. They were making comments about how HOTT she was. Jeanie's friend heard the raucous in the next room, but couldn't make out what was being said. So she stepped out and tried to listen but still couldn't hear anything. She didn't realize that Scott was getting tired and his crew was getting ready to go. Jeanie's friend was moving her ear up to the door when the door opened and some of the guys started to leave. The rookie was the first one through the door, he said "Hello." 

Jeanie's friend said, "Hi, who is in there?" 

"That is my Lieutenant, Scott" The rookie said with obvious admiration.

"What happened to him?" She asked.

"He rescued a woman from a house fire this morning," said the Rook

"Oh, Thank you." She replied.

She walked back into the Jeanie's room. "Jeanie," she said "Have I got a surprise for you."

Jeanie said, "What tell me."

"The guy who rescued you is right next door."

"I have to meet him!!" Jeanie exclaimed.

She pushed the nurse button. The nurse called on the intercom and asked how she could help. Jeanie asked if she was allowed up. The nurse said that she needed to use the wheel chair but she could leave her room. Jeanie got into the wheelchair and her friend pushed her into Scott's room. 

Jeanie pushed the curtain aside and gazed upon Scott. She looked at his shirtless body. He had some bandages on his neck and his knee was in a brace. His hair was very short and black with some speckling of grey. She couldn't see his eyes but knew that he was the paramedic in the back of the ambulance. She got up from the chair and walked over to Scott. She put her hand on his rock hard chest and leaned over and kissed his forehead. She whispered Thank you and exited the room.

As Jeanie got into her bed she felt a strange tingling between her legs. She was thinking about the shirtless man that was lying in the bed next door. She was thinking about the hardness of Scott's chest and how she wanted to feel that touch again. He friends and family decided that she needed some rest and left saying they would be back later. Jeanie started to close her eyes. She couldn't help but think about the man next door. Her hand slid under the sheet and lifted up the hospital gown. One hand played with her erect nipples while the other stayed under the sheet lightly caressing the her moist labia. She thought to herself about how it would feel to have Scott on top of her kissing her neck and slowly lowering himself down until he was licking her clit. Her fingers were moving faster and faster, she had never found herself this wet. She rubbed her love bud until her body began to quiver. She was thoroughly relaxed but couldn't get Scott off her mind. She fell asleep.

Jeanie awoke a short time later when the nurse did her rounds of vital signs. After the nurse left, Jeanie decided to go over to Scott room again. She got in her wheel chair and rolled in over to his room, hoping he'd be awake. Upon entering the room she saw that he was still asleep. She got closer to the bed and started talking to him, thanking him again. She touched his arm and started caressing him. She noticed that the sheet began to rise. 

It startled her, she quickly removed her hand worried that he was waking up but "he" wasn't but his cock was. Now this was a predicament for Jeanie, she was torn between looking at his rising member and leaving him alone. She decided to look because he had already seen her naked, it was only fair. She slowly lifted up the sheet and saw a most magnificent sight. His cock was looking right back at her. His cock was nice and long probably about 8in. She held the sheet up staring in amazement. She kept thinking about how much she wanted to touch it. She decided that she should check to see if Scott was still asleep and he was. She reached down and touched the tip with one finger. It jumped. She rolled her finger around the head with the lightest touch and felt some little juices flowing out. She smeared the pre cum all over the helmet while licking her lips. She slid her hand down around his shaft but she couldn't get hand hand all the way around it. She started to move her hand back and forth, trying to milk more from Scott's delicious cock. She slid her head down under the sheet and started to lick the pre cum from the head of his cock. Um this is tasty, she thought to herself. She slid one hand down to fondle his balls. She had never hand a cock of this size in her mouth before. She tried to take it all the way down but she wasn't able to at least not in this position.

She wanted his cum, she began pumping his cock faster and faster and bobbing her head faster and faster. She worked herself into a frenzy and finally Scott shot his cum into her waiting mouth. She was trying to swallow it with each ejaculation but he must of been saving this up for a long time because he just kept cumming and cumming.She love the taste of his cum, it was salty and sweet. She covered him back up leaned over and gave him a kiss on his forehead and said See you later!

She left the room and went back to her room, laid down in bed and continued thinking about Scott.

The Firefighter and the Nurse



The firefighter's phone rang before the sun was even up. It was the hot night shift nurse from the trauma center offering morning sex and pancakes. The nurse wanted the firefighter to meet at the nurse's house and bring pancakes. 

The firefighter took a shower and got dressed to head over to the nurse's house. The nurse was pulling up as the firefighter got there. They kissed in the driveway and the nurse started to take the firefighter's t-shirt off. The firefighter pulled away and started walking towards the front door. The nurse looked appreciatively at the firefighter's ass and smiled. "That ass is mine." the nurse thought, "and I'm going to show you who's boss once we get in the house".

The firefighter put the bag with the pancakes down on the table and took out the syrup from the bag and headed to the bedroom. "Come on. This was your idea." the firefighter said laughing. The nurse followed and started stripping off clothes. They kissed in front of the bed for a few minutes then the firefighter pushed the nurse down and pinned the nurse to the bed. 

The firefighter removed the rest of the nurse's clothes and started pouring pancake syrup on the nurse and licking it off. The nurse took hold of the syrup and poured syrup on the firefighter's pierced nipples and licked it off in circles, causing the firefighter to moan. The firefighter took the syrup and poured it on the nurse and licked it off slowly. They both moaned as the firefighter continued to lick and suck the syrup from the nurse. They began to take turns licking each other as he got harder and harder and couldn't wait anymore to show her who was boss.

He pulled her closer and kissed her hard. He started kissing her neck, knowing it made her his every time. He could feel her melt in his arms as he kept kissing her neck and playing with her piercings. He leaned down and started sucking on her nipples and she moaned. He sucked one and grabbed the other breast and squeezed tightly. She squirmed in his hands. He sucked harder and slid his free hand between her folds. He rubbed her clit hard and she gasped. She reached for him and began to stroke his head. They were now playing a game to see who could last the longest before begging to be fucked. 

She wasn't going to last long. He turned her on in ways she forgot she had. He won this game every time they played it. "Fuck me. You win!" she said and he pushed her down on the bed and slid her legs apart. He was rock hard and ready. She put her legs over his shoulders as he fit himself into her juicy wetness. She pushed up against him, making him go deeper inside her and she started to buck against him because she couldn't wait for him. He slowly slid in and out of her, teasing her and making her beg him to fuck her hard. He slammed her until she came hard then waited for her to catch her breath a minute and made her turn over on her knees. He slipped into her soaking wet pussy; pressing her face into the pillow and making her laugh and tell him to go easy. He ignored her and slammed into her hard, his balls slapping her clit as he went in and out. He could feel her tighten around his cock as she came again. She fell on the bed in exhaustion and he thought the neighbors three houses down might have heard her cum. He lay down on the bed next to her and she laughed that he was still hard.

"I have to take care of that, don't I?" she said, and began to suck on him. She took his entire length in her mouth and he moaned. She slid her mouth up and down his shaft, slowly at first than speeding up and rubbing his head with her tongue. He leaned his head back with his eyes closed and told her not to stop. She took each of his balls in her mouth and sucked then ran her tongue around his shaft and sucked at the base of his head. When she thought he was tortured enough, she sucked him hard and stroked him hard while his head was in her mouth. He exploded in her mouth and she swallowed it all. When he stopped, she licked the head and kissed it. She lay down on the bed next to him and he took her in his arms and kissed her. 

He laughed and said, "I think the pancakes are gonna be cold. We might have to make it chili dogs for lunch instead." 

"Is your bike in the garage? I can think of a few things we can do on the bike before we go get chili dogs." She smiled and laughed. He knew she loved getting him hard and sucking him off while he was sitting on the bike. He loved bending her over the bike and taking her from behind. She snuggled in closer to him and they took a power nap before round two. The nurse slept good for the first time in a week, smiling and dreaming about sex on the bike.



The Firefighter Ch. 02



Scott awoke hearing his door shut. He wonders who was just in his room, but figures it was just the nurse taking his vitals. Scott starts thinking about the fire and wondering how Jeanie was doing, not realizing that she was right next door. He couldn't get her off his mind. He could barely remember what she looked like because he was focused on saving her life and nothing else. Through the discussions of his crew, he started to remember that she was exceptionally attractive. She was Tall, Blonde and physically fit. She had perfect breasts and according to his crew, "She had an ass to die for." He remembers that when they hit the ground she was lying there in a purple bra and purple panties. He remembers that he skin was exceptionally soft even on his rough hands. Normally he would have cut off her panties and bra, so he could do a thorough assessment but for some reason he thought it was unnecessary. (Beside he really likes purple) 

As Scott is lying there thinking about Jeanie, he starts feeling a tingling between his legs. His cock starts to grow. He reaches his hand under the sheet and starts stroking his cock. He lays his head back and starts to think about Jeanie in her sexy purple underwear. He imagines her laying in the bed next to him and he hand grabbing his cock and stroking it. He starts fantasizing about her taking off her panties without letting go of his cock. Sliding her head towards his cock and moving her ass towards his face. He loves to dine at the "Y". She straddles his face and lowers her wonderful pussy down onto his face. He expertly begins licking each labia without touching her clit. Jeanie moans in delight and grinds her juicy pussy into his face. He gently licks her clit and gives it a little blow, she starts to bucks wildly. He continues to lick her clit and she starts shouting "Oh my God!!","Oh my God!!" That is when he sucks the clit into his mouth flicking it with his tongue. She goes crazy and thrusts her hips down as if she was trying to suffocate him. With each thrush a gush of Jeanie's flowery juice spreads over Scott's face. Jeanie is unable to continue sucking on Scott's cock, she had a hold of it but wasn't able to even stroke it. She flops down on Scott's body and can't move. 

Scott hears the door open...he quickly removes his hand from his throbbing cock and puts it behind his head. A couple of nurses walk through the door with a doctor and ask if everything is all right. He says "Yeah, things couldn't be better." The doctor comes over and looks at the heart monitor. She says, You heart rate has risen quite a bit above your normal rate. His heart was beating at 140 times per minute, his normal is 60. The doctor advises the nurses to keep an eye on him. One of the nurses looks at Scott and sees that his face is flush, she starts scanning his body. She sees beads of sweat on his chest and continues scanning down and sees that his sheet has popped up between his legs. She smiles and winks at Scott and says "I think he just had an intense dream, probably reliving the rescue." The doctor and nurses turn to leave, but the one who knew what he was doing stays back and pretend to check his IVs. Once the door shuts behind the others, She leans over to Scott pats his cock and whispers in his ear, "She is right next door." She re-adjust the IVs and leaves.

Scott lays back wondering which room Jeanie was in and wondering if Jeanie was thinking about him in the same way he was thinking about her.....

Scott was lying in bed wondering which room, Jeanie was in. He hit the call button and the nurse came over the intercom, "May I help you." He hears a group of nurses giggling around the lady on the intercom. He asks if he is allowed to get up. She advises him to wait there and someone will be in to talk to him. He lies there in anticipation, hoping that when the nurse comes in she will allow him to get up out of bed. He waited and waited, it felt as though time had stood still, he was wondering what could be taking so long. He thought that maybe they were looking for a wheelchair. The door finally opened and he heard the squeaking of a wheelchair. He saw a hand reach for the curtain and slide it out of the way. It was her, more ravishing than he remembered. Even in the unflattering Hospital gown, she looked amazing. Her smile brightened the room, tears were running down her cheeks as she said Hello. 

Scott stammered, "Hello, How are you?"

Jeanie replied, "I am fine thanks to you. How are you doing?"

Scott said, "I am great now. I have been hoping that you were ok."

The nurse said "You guys have a lot to talk about so we will leave you alone for awhile. Dinner is in two hours, you will have two uninterrupted hours." The nurse pushes the wheelchair next to the bed and turns to leave. She looks back over her shoulder and both Scott and Jeanie smiles and winks. They hear the door close behind her.

The first few moments were a bit awkward, Jeanie already having tasted his cum, without him knowing and Scott fantasizing about one of his patients. Scott broke the silence.

"So do you remember what happened?"

Jeanie said, "I am not really sure what happened, I remember getting up and going to the kitchen to put on the coffee. I went back upstairs jumped in the shower and the hot water wasn't working so I took a cold shower. I started getting dressed and all of a sudden I was in the back of the ambulance. What else happened?"

"Well, you and I came out of your bedroom window and landed pretty hard on the ground," Scott said," By the way, does anything hurt?"

"No I feel OK, just a little sore but no more sore that if I had just finished my evening run" joked Jeanie.

Scott was relieved, "Good I was worried that I hurt you. So how long are you stuck in here?"

Jeanie looked at Scott and said," I will be getting out tomorrow but lets talk about you, the hero."

"Look Jeanie, I am not a hero." Scott replied

"You are my hero and I want to know more about you." Jeanie stands up, leans over Scott and looks into his eyes.

Scott looks back and wonders if he should just kiss her. He has been waiting to kiss her since he woke earlier. He keeps looking deep into her eyes and finally gathers the courage. He runs his finger through her beautiful soft hair. Slide his hand to the back of her head and pulls her towards him. The kiss was passionate, he felt her tongue slide out of her mouth and into his. His tongue moves along her tongue as though he was giving her a massage with his tongue. They break the kiss, he can't take his eyes off of hers. His hands started to rub her shoulders and slide down her back which was exposed because of the hospital gown. 

She kissed him deeply again and placed a hand on his chest. She started moving her hand around on his chest and found one of his erect nipples. She started lightly caressing the nipple, lightly flicking it and occasionally pinching it. With each pinch Scott moaned.

Meanwhile Scott had found his way down to Jeanie's delectable ass. He gently grabbed her ass. The kiss intensified and a muffled yelp came from Jeanie. Scott could feel her smile against his face. 

Jeanie broke the kiss and moved her mouth down to his nipples. She began sucking on his nipple and again flicking them with her tongue. Her hand slid down across his abs and under the sheets. She found his stiffening cock. She slowly slide her head down kissing him all the way down. She gently moved his injured knee over and moved her body in between his legs. Pulling the sheet back, she got to see Scott in all his Glory. She moved her head closer to his cock, grabbing it with both hands as she did. She looked at up at Scott as she licked the head and gathered up that precum that tasted just as good as she remembered. One hand slide around to cup his heavy balls and she took his cock all the way down. She had never had her mouth stretched as much as Scott's cock was stretching it right now, she couldn't wait to have that cock in her pussy and ass.

Jeanie felt the head of Scott's cock hitting the back of her throat. Her eyes were wide opened watching Scott's face glow each time her head bobbed up and down. Scott grabbed the back of her head and pushed it down while he thrusted his hips up. Jeanie continued to fondle his balls while being face fucked. She pulled her head off his cock and slowly licked down his shaft to his hairless sac. She sucked his left testicle into her mouth and rolled her tongue around it. She continue to stroke his cock while she switched to his right nut. He was in heaven. Scott looked down and couldn't believe, that this gorgeous woman was sucking his cock. Jeanie then did something he had never had done to him before. She started licking the underside of his balls and continued to his ass. She stopped stroking his cock and spread his ass cheeks apart. Her tongue started probing around his anus. She was stimulating him in ways he could never imagine. Jeanie pushed her tongue into him and out again. WOW, thought Scott. Jeanie moved her head back to his cock and started licking his shaft, one hand still spreading his ass cheeks apart. He felt something putting pressure on his anal opening. "Jeanie was sliding a finger in my ass," scott thought. Scott wasn't sure how he felt about this but he liked it. Jeanie started moving the finger in and out. She bent her finger and was trying to hit his prostate. She got it and started to see gobs and gobs of precum pour out of Scott's cock. Jeanie lapped it all up. 

Scott was in heaven but what he really wanted was Jeanie's sweet pussy on his cock. He grabbed Jeanie under the shoulders and dragged her off of his cock and out of his ass. He kissed her passionately. He reached down and helped his cock find her soaking wet pussy. Jeanie began to ride Scott, kissing him passionately and thrusting herself down on his fat cock. She came within seconds and flooded the bed. She tried to rest for a minute but Scott started thrusting his cock up into her. She figured that she has rested enough, Jeanie sat up and turned around into the reverse cowgirl position. She got her feet under her and began bouncing up and down. Feeling Scott's cock going deeper each time she came down. Scott spread Jeanie's ass cheeks and slowly inserted a finger deep into her ass. Jeanie screamed and orgasmed again. Jeanie reached down and started fondling Scott's balls. This was all Scott could handle, he told Jeanie "I am getting ready to cum." Jeanie said I want to taste you, again. Scott was unsure what she meant by again but he just needed to shoot his load. Jeanie slid off Scott's cock and started stroking it with her hand. She took the cock in her mouth and could taste all of her juices that were on it. She stroke and sucked for about 30 seconds and Scott unleashed a spurt of cum that hit the back of her throat with such force she thought she was shot. He kept shooting cum and she attempted to swallow but unlike the first time she could no keep up with his cum. A good bit dripped onto his belly. Jeanie could feel his cock start to soften the slightest bit. She kept hold of the shaft and tried to stroke every last drop out. She licked the cum off of his stomach and continued kissing until he reached his mouth. She hesitated to kiss him because she wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss after she swallowed his cum. Scott grabbed her head and kissed her harder than she had ever been kissed before. Jeanie slide to Scott's side and snuggled up onto his chest. He caressed her arm while she was kissing his chest. A knock came at the door. The adjusted the sheets quickly and Jeanie adjusted her gown. The nurse was coming in with dinner. 

Jeanie and Scott asked if they could eat together and the nurse allowed them to do so.



The Firefighter's Ball



1.

"Interesting showerhead," he had just muttered to himself. And it was. It was two showerheads, actually; turning a spigot by the main outflow would divert the surprisingly powerful stream to the shower-massage hose and wand at the opposite end. And the tub was huge. He had decided that his hostess was quite the sybarite when the lights went out.

The bathroom was plunged into absolute darkness. Naturally, he was momentarily disconcerted, but saw no particular reason not to continue showering. He groped around a bit and found the bar of soap.

"Girl soap," he said to himself. It smelled of vanilla, and something flowery. "Honeysuckle? Whatever." It wasn't bad or anything, but he wouldn't want the guys back at the hook & ladder company to get a whiff of him at the moment. Certainly not these first few days. 

It wasn't until he'd rinsed the soap from his eyes that he noticed the globe of light. It seeped golden thru the translucent curtains, and floated and wavered in midair. It got bigger as he looked at it, and then the curtain was flung aside.

She was holding a candle up in front of her, illuminating only her face. Its tremulous flame threw nervous shadows and coquettish light. Her straw-blond hair, lit from below, was a wild halo. Aristocratic cheekbones shaded her temples, and her perfect nose cast an odd triangle of darkness to divide her forehead. Her lush lips were parted in a wicked smile, allowing the flame to glint off her bared teeth. 

He had little time to catalog such details, because she had, in one motion, thrust the candle into a niche in the tile wall, pulled the curtain closed again, and flowed up into his arms. Her blue eyes (he remembered they were blue; by candlelight they were deep black wells with a glimmer dancing in their depths) half closed, and she tipped her head back and to one side in an unmistakable invitation. He did not hesitate to accept.

2.

She realized it was mainly because he had no idea how adorable he was. 

She had gotten tickets to the Firefighter's Ball from her Secret Santa at the office Christmas party, who had turned out to be Norbert Puffer from her IT department. He had revealed his erstwhile identity by the sadly unspiked egg nog and, while fidgeting with his clip-on bow-tie, made it clear that the cosmos required that he be her escort to the soiree in question. She had already turned him down for New Year's Eve, and he wasn't a complete creep. And he had, quite against Policy, installed unauthorized RAM in her laptop, the mad impetuous boy. She sighed inwardly, said "shit" to herself, and agreed. Prolonged datelessness does strange things to the mind sometimes.

At the Firefighter's Ball, held this year at the Marriott out on Rt.19, she had spotted him leaning against a fake fireman's pole. Not Norbert -- definitely not Norbert -- but a suitably tall, rawboned and awkward cowboy in a brand new JC Penney micro fiber sports jacket and a pair of 501's that fit... VERY... well. 

She knew right away. "Oh, my, yes," she said to herself, "In a New York minute." 

Norbert returned with her sloe gin fizz. He had managed to carry it and his Grasshopper without spilling but a few drops on his shoes. They stood by the sofa-size art near the swinging kitchen doors for a while, sipping their drinks and blathering between silences. Her eyes kept snapping back to the... yeah, he's a fireman, she speculated. I imagine asking to see his hose would be forward of me. Norbert thought she was smiling at his wacky server-malfunction anecdote, and he was quite pleased and wrong. 

Eventually the band returned and launched into a limp rendition of a Huey Lewis cover, so Norbert asked her to dance. Quite deliberately, she spilled her drink on his Dockers. He apologized and excused himself to the men's room. "Nice guy," she thought, as she set down her drink, peeled off her cardigan, and crossed the dance floor to her fireman.

He was by now peering up into the darkness by the acoustical tiles and wondering what the top of the fake pole was attached to. She stood beside him and looked up too.

"I've always wanted to slide down one of these," she said. "Boost me up."

3.

He was no longer sure what 'irony' meant, but he was pretty sure this qualified. He had gotten home from the Firefighter's Ball - well, he had given that nice blonde a lift home first. Apparently her date, the gleep in the bow-tie, had gotten upset about something and left her there. Go figure. Turns out she lived two streets up the hillside, on Vista View. He'd turned down her offer of a cup of coffee; it'd just keep him awake. Anyway, he'd gotten home to find his apartment gutted by fire. The crappy wiring in these old postwar tract duplexes, Hannigan had said. The guys in B unit from out in Creekdale got there in time to keep it from spreading to adjacent units, but that was about it. 

Well, now he needed a place to sleep. He thought he had a Motel 6 discount card in his wallet - which was in his sports jacket - which he had last seen draped over that blonde. "Well, she shivered," he thought. "Damn. Hope she's not asleep already. I need that wallet." 

She wasn't. The peephole in her door darkened, and after a couple seconds she opened the door to reveal that she had changed out of her pretty dress. A dark blue silk robe covered flannel pajamas. She was blushing, furiously, for some reason. He explained about the fire, and she apologized for giggling, explaining that it was just so ironic. So, yeah, he was right about the definition of ironic. Then she explained about the jacket; she forgot she had it on, there it was on the back of the rocker; what is that, suede? No, it's micro fiber. It feels nice. Did you get burnt? No, why? Well, you're all sooty. Oh, I was digging around to see if I could salvage my laptop. Could you? No. 

Her top pajama button had come undone. She didn't seem to notice.

"Well, look," he said, "I gotta get going. I gotta find a place to crash tonight." 

"Well, look," she said. "That's crazy. I've got a guest room. I've just got to get the Christmas decorations off the...off the bed and it'll be fine. No, I insist. You're a fireman --"

"Firefighter."

"Whatever. You're a hero. You deserve no less. Shut up. Besides, you lived in an apartment my company owns. That makes me responsible. Shut up. Say yes. It's that door."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"Oh. Just a second. I'll get you a towel; you better take a shower. And don't call me 'Ma'am.'" 

4.

She deliberated for three and a half minutes, by candlelight, as she listened through the door to the water hissing and splattering on the porcelain. She wanted him. She was burning. He had wrapped his big calloused hands around her waist and hoisted her up that stupid pole as if she weighed twelve pounds. She had managed to slide down, somehow, without her skirt up around her ribs, but she was pretty sure that the leg she'd wrapped around the pole had looked fetching as it parted the side-slit of her skirt. As she hit the ground she pretended to stumble and, laughing, put both hands on his chest to regain her balance. It was like a rock. She thought about knocking on his bedroom door later and asking if he needed anything at all. She thought about slipping into the room after dark, leaving her PJs in a flannel puddle, and ravishing him. She thought about his long, cut fireman's body all soaped up, and turned the knob. 

He didn't know what had hit him. She had made her decision, and was going for broke. He was beginning to respond to her kiss, and his arms had started to envelop her, but she giggled and slipped under his arm around behind him. She shoved him from behind up against the wall under the showerhead and, going up on tiptoe, she whispered in his ear, "Don't move."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. 

She took his earlobe between her teeth and nibbled, perhaps a bit harder than necessary. "Don't call me Ma'am."

She reached up and got the shower-massage pumping. It sputtered; began chattering. She had the bar of soap now, and she wasn't afraid to use it. Leaning with his forearms flat against the tiles, he gripped the showerhead pipe. Still from behind him, she slowly and thoroughly ran the soap bar over every inch of his back and chest. She had a bath-puff thing in the other hand, and she lovingly lathered him up. Then she reached up and over his broad shoulders, grabbed his wrists, and pulled him back upright.

"Turn around," she commanded. He turned. "Sit." He sat. Her tub had a very broad rim. She dropped to her knees in front of him.

5.

She began at his feet. Methodically, she soaped and scrubbed them, not neglecting between the toes. He managed, through a tremendous effort of will, not to reveal that his toes were extremely ticklish. Then she grasped one of his ankles and slid his leg up her arm until his calf rested on her shoulder. She lathered up the one leg, then did the same for the other. She worked slowly, and he noticed she had a solemn look of concentration on her face, like a little girl intent on not coloring outside the lines. 

Occasionally she looked up to see what effect she was having on him. He appeared to be enjoying it.

His eyes had long ago adjusted to the dimness of the single candle through the steam, and he was admiring how lovely she was. She was quite brown all over, with a near-invisible dusting here and there of freckles, except in pale, triangular areas the sun hadn't seen This highlighting of forbidden zones excited him. And he found that she looked good even when she hunkered over; no awkward folds or pouching. Her breasts would gently sway from time to time and, watching, he felt like someone being put into a hypnotic trance. "Keep your eyes on ze vatch...You are getting horny... very, very horny... " 

She had finished up to his thighs, and said, "Stand up." She rose as he did, and she batted away the hands that began to reach around her. "Did I say you could move, Cowboy? Keep your palms on the wall behind you." 

He smiled.

She resumed her task. She re-lathered her bath-puff and washed his stomach. Oh, she had been saving this up. It had that six-pack that, back at the Marriott, she had imagined it had, and she savored running her fingers across the smooth, hard ripples. She had to get up very close to him to reach around so she could soap up his butt, and she was thorough enough that his eyebrows rose.

Needless to say, that's not all that rose. She noted, with great satisfaction, the warm hardness that pressed insistently, first against her leg, then her abdomen. She had to rub up against him in her labors; up and down; side to side. Yes, I know you're there, she thought. Be patient. It's your turn next.

And it was. She locked eyes with him, and held his gaze for 8 seconds. She gave him a big smile. Then she put a hand on his chest and reached down with the other and touched the puff to his scrotum. He gasped.

She kept his eyes on hers while she worked. When he was completely soaped up she let the puff hang by its band from her wrist. She encircled his penis lightly, three fingers, thumb on top, and ever so slowly slid down its length, from the tip to the base of the shaft, and back. And again. She was delighted that he grew in her fist, harder and bigger than before. She made the circuit again, increasing the pressure. His eyes closed and he said "nguuh." Again. Again. She slid the hand on his chest up and across and back, brushing her fingers across his nipples. Her fist slid slowly back from base to tip, and with a fingertip she traced along the inverted V that saluted her there before she let go.

He drew in his breath in a hiss through his teeth. She gave a low chuckle in her throat. Then her fingernails touched the hindmost region of his sudsy scrotum and drew fine lines through the lather as she trailed them lightly from back to front. She made a lacework pattern as she tried various paths. She liked seeing the shaft bob up a little straighter with each pass, like it was nodding 'yes.' She liked how she was making him breathe so heavily. 

She grabbed the shower-massage hose off its wall-mount and began rinsing him off. It was on the Pulse setting, the one she referred to as the Thrustmaster setting. She dialed it to Spring Rain before she rinsed his balls, which he appreciated. She saw how the candle's flame made little points of light on the rivulets and tiny beads of water on his skin. When she was done with the rinsing, she hung up the wand, bent down, and kissed the tip of his cock. Then she pulled the puff off her wrist and held it out to him. "Now you do me," she said, and turned her back.

6.

"He'll rue the day he messed with Norbert Puffer," Norbert Puffer had said, his head bathed in the cathode ray glow of his PC screen. He had seen his date leave the Firefighters Ball with that tall bastard, and using the ninja skills he'd learned at night school (his screen-name was 'Ronin'), he'd shadowed them out to the parking lot and tapped the guy's license number into his Palm Pilot. On his cell he had called a buddy at the Police Bureau, another night-school ninja, who worked in Records and could run the number. 

He'd found the burnt apartment, but not the car. He had a horrible hunch, and drove his Jetta by her house, outside of which he'd sat many a night, unavailingly, with night-vision goggles. The plates checked. That was the car. Bastard!

The Jetta's dash clock said he sat there for 12 minutes. Then he started the engine and drove off. He made two consecutive rights and parked on the next street over. He got out of the car and quietly closed the door. He rummaged through the duffle bag in the trunk where he kept his gear and selected his equipment for the evening. 

There was a vacant lot that adjoined her back yard and two of her neighbors'. Again employing the ancient stealth skills of the mercenary assassins of Nippon, Norbert stole from tree to pile of junk to shrub and made his way undetected to her back fence. In absolute silence, mostly, he hoisted himself over the top and dropped lightly to the grass on one knee and his fingertips. He was just wondering what that was that his fingertips were in when he heard what sounded like an idling Harley. It wasn't. He hadn't known she had a dog. Huh. A Rottweiler.

7.

She admired his restraint. She had been trying to whip him up some, and she knew that it had worked -- that nudging from behind her would not be denied for long -- but he was as slow and thorough as she had been. A form of revenge, perhaps, but revenge was sweet. She felt tiny in his arms, and she relaxed against him and sighed as his big hands lathered and scrubbed every millimeter, paying perhaps more attention to certain areas than was absolutely necessary. 

He had dispensed with the bath-puff; he loved the silkiness of her wet and soapy skin under his hands. She was soft and slippery and would squirm a bit from time to time, and press her tight little ass against his loins. He kissed the side of her neck and slid his soapy hands up her back to her shoulders, then down to cup her breasts briefly before continuing down across her belly, down, twirling her pubic hair and trailing his fingertips along the sides of her outer labia before sliding back up again to lightly tweak her nipples. He did this again and again, a thrilling stroke, with variations on the theme, and she hummed and moaned and her breathing deepened. 

He turned the valve that controlled the water flow and set it so water sprayed their bodies simultaneously from both fixtures at either end of the tub. He spun her around to face him. He wet down her hair and shampooed it. She looked at him with a question in her eyes. "It was already clean," she murmured.

"I know," he said. "I love doing this, though." He paused. "Can you keep a secret? If I hadn't been a firefighter, I would have been a hairdresser."

He silenced her laughter with a kiss. While he plied his fingers through her thick mane she did a quick job on his short buzz and washed the vestigial soot off his face. He rinsed them both off and turned off the water. She pulled a couple of big, fluffy towels into the tub and they dried each other off. That was a great deal of fun. Then they stood for a moment, face to face, and made each other wordless promises. 

He picked her up, cradled her in his arms, and carried her into the bedroom. He tossed her lightly on to the bed and she rebounded about a foot. He crossed to the foot of the bed and stood above her, studying again the wonderland of curves. She struck a sexy pose: hands behind her head, head back, lips parted, eyes half-closed, back arched, one knee bent and crossed in front of the other. 

He climbed onto the foot of the bed. He reached out and put a hand on each knee, then slid his hands in and up her inner thighs. Gently, but irresistibly, he spread her knees apart.

He began at her feet.

Beginning with the left, he kissed the sole, then every toe, one by one but out of sequence, for the surprise value. He pressed the tip of his tongue against her right anklebone and ran it up her calf to her knee, then kissed her there and flicked and circled his tongue in the hollow behind her knee. He moved his head up and around to her inner thigh, and she gasped as he gently nibbled it. He switched to the other leg and gave it equal time. Lingeringly, excruciatingly slowly, he kissed his way up her trembling thighs. His hands, meanwhile, pursued more random courses, stroking the tops of her thighs, her tummy, her hipbones, her breasts, her ribs; but he left her vulva untouched. 

Her breathing was like the cooing of doves, and she made occasional incoherent noises: "Ooh. Uh! Mm. Ai! Oh, I swear to God I'm going to come as -- mmuh-ahh! -- as soon as you touch me there!"

"Do you want me to stop?"

" Nn!... no."

He ran a fingertip along her razor-sharp hipbone. 

"As soon as I touch you where, now?" 

From cheeks to chest, she blushed through her tan. "You know. Where you're going."

"Whoa. When did you turn shy? Come on now." He nibbled the tendon at the top of her inner upper thigh. "I don't know what you mean. You're going to come as soon as I touch...? " 

He waited.

Very quietly: "My pussy." 

His grin was wolfish. "Ah," he said. "Well then."

He wrapped an arm under each thigh and lifted her legs up on to his shoulders, and then resumed his slow kissing, nibbling and stroking progress. He continued, maddeningly, to take his sweet time about it. She was dripping wet. He tickled the downy hair, which she had sculpted into a neat little racing stripe - and she sent a silent thanks aloft that those bikini-wax speckles had already healed - and deftly spread her bright pink lips apart. He kissed her there, softly, over and over, each kiss like a schoolboy's first tentative kiss with the girl next door. He put his nose in the cleft and inhaled deeply through it. A sigh escaped her like a soul released from purgatory.

With no warning, he wetly lapped his tongue, like a Labrador Retriever, the full length of her pussy, perineum to mons. She let out a sound between a sigh and a sob, and her whole body shook. He began in earnest. He licked her labia minora from the inside out, as if to lay the petals of the orchid aside. He pushed his nose inside her and again pulled her scent deep into his nostrils while he licked her; here, there, everywhere. Sometimes he would stop, and she felt his hot breath on her as he chose his next taste; where, when, how gently, how long, how slow, how wet? She loved that his entire focus was on pleasuring her, and that it seemed that he'd never tasted anything so sweet. Finally, he curled his tongue into a U shape and plunged it deep inside her, probing under the hood for her clitoris. 

He found it. Her breathing was very rapid now, and spasms of trembling coursed through her body. His tongue flicked and twirled and caressed, and he made sounds like a gourmet with a great dessert. She felt a tremendous warm tickling spreading out from her womb to her every extremity. He kissed her clit. She sighed. Licked it. She moaned. Sucked it. She cried out, loud, "Fuck YES that's IT," and jackknifed and convulsed in a shattering orgasm. 




The Firefighter's Ball



His powerful hands held her securely against his face. Mercilessly he licked and sucked her clit while his left pinky surreptitiously stole to her anus. He had previously lubricated it, courtesy of her moist quim, and he insinuated about a quarter inch into the tight little flower. He executed tiny maneuvers with it there, and viewed with considerable delight and not a little pride, and some alarm, how this made her buck and squirm and call his name. He continued for perhaps four minutes, pausing briefly now and again to gauge her reactions. 

Without removing his pinky, he stopped altogether. She gasped, and wrapped her long legs around behind his head, and whimpered. 

"More?" he asked.

"Yes!! Jeezus Fucking Christ, yes!" 

He waited a moment. "Now?" 

"YES, you vicious son of a bitch bastard. Lick my fucking pussy!!" She grabbed his ears and pulled, and her heels pushed against his back, forcing him in to her.

"Okay," he said, and plunged again.

9.

Puffer made it over the fence just ahead of her big Rottweiler, Mr. Pemberton. Well, almost. Mr. Pemberton came away with a large swatch of his Dockers. He stood with his hands on his knees in the vacant lot, regaining his wind. He was congratulating himself on his escape, and wondering what real ninjas did about dogs - probably a dart with a mild fugu-fish narcotic in it, he decided - when Mr. Pemberton rounded the far corner of the fence. Puffer regarded this as an example of the shoddy craftsmanship of the American worker nowadays; leaving gaps in a fence like that, what was the point of having a fence, after all; and simultaneously, his fine analytical mind was able to calculate the relative distances to his car vs. to that tree over there. He decided on the tree. 

10.

She had stopped screaming, and now just lay back, twitching. Her hair, not quite dry from the shower, lay curled in damp profusion on the pillow around her flushed face. Big blue eyes closed, she breathed in rapidly through her nose and exhaled in tremulous soft hums. His hands slid off her abdomen and out and around to grasp her buttocks, and he gently lowered her hips down onto the bed. Up on his knees, he watched her chest rise and fall to her breathing. His finger traced a circle around her navel. Then she took a deep breath, gave him a dazzling smile, and sprang at him.

Her weight hit him in the chest and he went over. Quickly, she straddled him and, her hands on his wrists, leaned down until her lips were an inch from his. Her brown nipples brushed against his chest, and he could feel them crinkling up again. She looked into his eyes through her half-closed lashes and whispered, very distinctly, " I. Am going. To suck... your... cock." 

"Okay," he said.

Her laugh was like harp music, he decided. What do you call it? A glissando. And then all musicological musings abandoned him as she licked his nipple. He groaned. You prick, she thought, now it's your turn to wait. She circled the other nipple with her tongue. But a nice prick, she conceded. 

She had an idea. "Shut your eyes, big boy," she cooed. 

He wondered what deviltry she had in mind, but obeyed. He felt her weight leave the bed, and by the time he had opened his eyes and raised his head to locate her, all he saw was the closet door swinging shut. He swung his head around as he heard the bathroom door lock. He cursed under his breath and dropped his head back down to the pillow. He wondered how sturdy the bathroom door was. Interior doors were usually hollow in these 50's houses, he knew. He toyed with the idea of smashing through the door; he wanted to see the look on her face. But he knew she wouldn't be in there all night. Right?

"Honey," he called. "Will you be much longer?" Like an old married couple going out to play bridge with Jerry and Millie. Why do they take so long?

"I'll be right ouuu-ouuuut!" she sang, playing along. 

"O-kaaay-aaaayyy!" he responded, and smiled, and thought about her. Gorgeous woman, he thought. Full, soft lips; kisses nice too. Great bone structure. Legs like a model or something. Yeah, her tits point a little more to the south than they maybe used to, but they still make me hard. I don't care that much about tits, anyway. Not a tit man, nope, not me. I do love a nice butt, though, oh my yes. And she's sure got one. He loved how it described figure-8's when she walked, and how sinuously it curved out and down and around, and how it met up with her long legs, and how her back flowed into it and vice versa. He thought about that sweet little diamond of daylight that it formed in conjunction with her thighs when viewed from behind. You don't see that every day.

He became aware that his hand had unconsciously strayed to his penis, and he was maintaining his hard-on with slow strokes along its length. Well, it wouldn't do not to be ready when she was, he thought. He tweaked his left nipple with his free hand, and switched his right to full wraparound mode. He got himself to maximum rigidity again and his hand slid to his scrotum, tickling the hair on its underside. He looked down and critically appraised his - what was the phrase? - his 'turgid, vermilion member.' Yeah, like out of that sticky-paged Victorian crotch-novel he'd sweated onto as a boy. ("O rapture! O sublime! Such exceeding lubricity! I spend... I die!" ) Not a bad slab, he told himself. 6 & 5/8. Glad I'm a man.

The room brightened as the bathroom door opened. She stood in the doorway with one hand on the jamb, the other on her uptilted hip, feet apart and weight over one foot. The light from the bathroom filtered through the diaphanous folds of a floor-length black negligee. It was closed with ribbons down the front and a silk sash at her waist. As she strutted across the room toward him on negligible and spiky high heels, he could see that under it she wore a tiny black satin & lace confection that did little to conceal her femininity. It was mostly made of the same translucent fabric as the robe, except for a fancy, flowery panel front and center. It was little more than two triangles that tied together with ribbons in little bows at her hips. Her skimpy bra, of the same diaphanous fabric, concealed nothing. Perhaps most exciting of all, she wore shimmery silk stockings that rose to halfway up her thighs and were secured by a black lace garter belt.

His hand still held his stiff penis. She sat on the bed beside him and said, "Don't stop on my account. I'll help." 

11.

Norbert Puffer was bleeding. He had cut and abraded himself in several places climbing this tree, and now the damn dog was just waiting by the trunk, growling idly and baring large, ecru teeth. Maybe there are no dogs in Japan, he thought. I can't think of any Japanese breeds. They might eat the mutts; this bastard could feed a family of six. "Fuck off!" he hissed at it, as if that would help. He broke off twigs and hurled them at the dog. Nothing. It smells blood, he thought. 

He calculated that he was within jumping distance of the fence. If he got out far enough on that limb... got a good bounce going... jumped hard -- hell, he was short, but all the Puffers were wiry -- he could make it over that fence and be on his way before the damn dog knew what was happening. Yeah, there we go. Use what you've got.

He got out on the end of a stout limb and steadied himself with a hand on a branch above it. Mr. Pemberton's head followed him as he got the limb bending down and up under him. One... (creeak)... Two (neeerngk)... THREE! (KcccraachckkSproing) and he was aloft.

Even the finest of analytical minds can miscalculate. It was dark, after all, and he was bleeding, and the limb didn't really hold up its end of the deal. For whatever reason, however, he strongly suspected he was going to be a trifle short on his trajectory. Aha. See? He was right. His chin smacked against the top of the fence. He got his flailing arms over the top, but felt a sharp pull on his pants leg. He hurriedly scrabbled up the rest of the way over as his pants cuff tore loose in Mr. Pemberton's fangs. A brief moment of elation at the top, then that disappeared, along with his balance, as he toppled off the other side... and fell with a splash into the cold swimming pool beneath. 

12.

He smiled up at her. He sat up and put his arm around her and, like the first time, kissed her. She kissed back. He pulled her down until she was lying back in the crook of his arm, his other hand around her narrow waist.

When they were done, she dimpled up at him and asked him, "What was that for?"

"For being such an exciting woman." He caressed her cheek, then put his face against her neck and took in her scent. She had put on some heady perfume that she told him later was a special blend of hers. At the moment he didn't much care what it was, he just knew that it made him a little dizzy. He put his index finger on her lower lip, and she sucked on it like a baby with a bottle. He untied the ribbons that fastened her filmy robe and he pulled it down off her shoulders, and it billowed out around her and lay in moiré patterns on the duvet. He got to his feet and stood beside the bed, his shins against the dust ruffle. 

She swung her feet around to face him, her legs on either side of his, and looked up at him with a sly smile. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, Cowboy." She caught hold of his right hand and guided it to his now-semi-erect member. "Go ahead," she told him. "I want to watch."

He resumed his ministrations to it, again restoring it to its 'angry' state. She watched intently, with an eye toward technique. With a quick dart of her head now and again she would lick the glans, and sometimes with both hands she would tickle the hair on his scrotum, or slide her palms up across his stomach and chest, or along his legs.

She put her hands on his. "Gimme that fucker," she said. "And grab hold of something." 

He leaned back and draped his arms across the top of the tall dresser behind him. She wrapped her fingers lightly around the shaft and glided them back and forth along its length, once, twice, again and again, and her eyes never left his face. She gave his penis a little kiss, and it throbbed and stiffened in her hand. She rose up and rubbed the full, hard length of his shaft against her nipples. She settled back down and licked her lips. 

He locked eyes with her as her tongue touched the very tip of his cock. He watched as she laid his glans on her tongue-tip and slowly oscillated it side to side. She held it fully upright in front of her face and, starting at its base, licked it end to end. Her tongue made a complete circle around the glans, and then traveled back down, continuing on to lick his balls. She took one of them fully into her mouth and manipulated it gently with her tongue. Then the other. His head lolled back and he made a deep growling sound in his chest. She giggled as she again ran her tongue back up the shaft and flicked it like a hummingbird's wing at the tip. Then she took it, suddenly, into her mouth. 

He gasped, and his knees nearly buckled. Good God, he thought, this girl is amazing! Oh, jeez... Oh, Jeez... Oh my god, she's gonna blow my brains out! 

That was her plan. She sucked hard on the end of his cock, making various little geometric patterns with her tongue. Then she began taking it all in, a sixteenth of an inch at a time. He was aware that it was slowly disappearing between her lips, and that she was taking long, slow breaths through her nose, and that the suction hollowed her cheeks and threw her high cheekbones into greater relief, but her eyes never left his, and there was a smoldering look there that excited him as much as anything else. He was honored that she thought enough of him to bestow such a gift, he thought, or would have thought so if he'd been able at this point to put an entire coherent sentence together.

At last she had her lips down at the base, and he could feel the tip being swallowed over and over. She cupped and caressed his balls as she began to slide her lips back off of him. Equally slowly and, incredibly, with greater suction than before, she made the motion in reverse. "Ngaaaahh!!" was the most articulate expression he could manage, and it came out in another gasp. Her mouth eventually came off the end of his cock with a soft 'plop,' and she took a deep breath. She began again, a little faster this time; but not much. Rational thought abandoned him. Again she took him into her throat; again her uvula pummeled his German helmet. This time she dug her nails into his buttocks and scratched. 

She completed the cycle. Another 'plop.' Another cycle. Incredibly, blood pounded in his temples; wasn't all his blood elsewhere? Random, unpredictable licks and kisses. Tickling and stroking his balls. With thumb and forefinger around him in an OK sign she slipped up and down the throbbing, enraged column of gristle. She kept him rock-hard, but she wasn't going to let him come yet, oh no. But when he does, she thought, I'm going to drain him dry.

His breathing had slowed, so she wrapped her lips around him again. She moved her head down. And up. Down, and up. Down and up. She pressed her tongue to the underside on the way down, and applied extra suction at the top of the arc. She surrounded his scrotum with her fingers, and slowly stroked and caressed and tickled. Down and up and down and up and down and up and his eyes rolled back in his head. She stopped, looked up at him, and waited.

He looked down at her, abject.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, sweetly.

He reached for her hair. She threw herself backward and rolled off the other side of the bed. He stood opposite her, and his face was much the same color as his dick. She smiled, showing those killer dimples again. 

She reached up between her breasts and unsnapped her filmy little bra. It disappeared into the folds of the robe's arms. She slid her hands slowly down across her hardened nipples and across her long, smooth belly, and her middle fingers slid under the thin straps that joined the front of her panties to the back. Moving out to the sides of her hips, she took the loose ends of the little bows there that tied the panties together. Slowly -- she loved 'slowly' -- she pulled until the bows spun open and fell loose along her legs. She moved one hand over and in mock shyness held the front panel in place for a second. Then she pulled the panties away, wadded them up, and tossed them at his head. He caught them neatly, brought the wad to his nose, and sniffed. 

She was magnificent in only the robe, garter belt and silk stockings. They were old-school, authentic stockings that her grandmother had given her when she turned 16. Sheer; shiny; a wide dark band at the top; a thin, dark seam running down the back. She executed a half-turn, like a beauty queen, to show off the seams. She bent down from the waist, still turned away from him, to straighten the seams and smooth the stockings, and she twitched her ass at him for good measure through the fabric of the robe. Her skin whispered to him through the ephemeral gown.

She turned back around and saw the look in his eye. Uh-oh, she thought. Better do something. "Lie down!" she commanded.

Much of his brain was fully occupied with the idea of fucking this bitch to within an inch of her life, to teach her a lesson and relieve the volcanic painful pressure in his genital regions. But there was a still, small voice that prevailed. 'You haven't regretted following her orders yet,' it reasoned. He lay down on his back.

She grabbed a bottle of baby oil from the bedside table and tucked it into her garter belt. Then, heels and all, she stepped up on to the bed. She straddled him and put one foot on his chest. She played with herself, and pressed in a little bit with her heel. "Do you want to fuck me?" she asked, her voice husky. "Well, you can't," she said, cutting off his reply, "Because I'M going to fuck YOU, you little bitch!"

She dropped down into a kneeling position over him. His cock was straining up at her wet pussy. Settling back onto her calves, she took it into her hand to pump it a few times, then pulled the squeeze-bottle of baby oil out and uncapped it. She turned it upside-down over the end of his engorged manhood and let a thin stream of the oil drip down over the tip and roll in rivulets down the shaft. She took it in her hand again and made sure there was a generous and evenly distributed coating of lubrication on his rigid member, then greased up his balls for good measure.

"I've always wanted to slide down one of these," she said. Then she lowered herself down onto him. Oh my sweet god it's so HARD she cried inside, but she was doing the fucking here and wouldn't give him the satisfaction of moaning... yet. The combination of the baby oil and her own juices was delicious; so slick, so slippery, so easy to ride his big hard cock. She impaled herself fully on his hot purple schlong and rotated her hips. There we go, she thought, He moaned first. Yeah, she thought, you'll take it and like it, baby.

Still gyrating, changing direction at random, she reached around behind her ass and stroked his oiled balls. She lifted herself, slowly as always, off him, and then got on her feet in a crouch over him. She guided him into her again, and eased down. She began a slow bounce, tilting her pelvis back and front in a syncopated rhythm. Oooof. He felt so good inside her. It wasn't particularly long, she mused, but it was nice and thick, and GodDAMN it was hard, and stayed that way. He's gonna get the fucking of his life tonight.

14. 

All the summers of Norbert's youth spent at Camp Kahoopa-maga-wanahjee were not misspent. It was there he'd learned to swim. True, 7 times out of 10 the other campers and the occasional counselor would find it amusing to throw his shoes into a lakeside fir, or relieve him of his bathing trunks and send him, paddle-less, toward Camp Woochehacha for Girls in a well-aimed canoe, but this amiable foolery only served to improve his swimming and tree-climbing skills. 

So it was that he was not overly concerned when he was suddenly plunged into the icy water of the above-ground pool that, needless to say, was not much used during Yuletide. It was somewhat disconcerting to come up again in near-absolute darkness under the black vinyl tarpaulin that covered the unused pool's surface. 

He must have plunged through a gap where the tarp had pulled away from the rim. But he kept his head and tried, dogpaddling, to revolve himself about in the water to get his bearings. But the weight of the tarp upon him made this, as well as breathing, difficult, and besides, he could see nothing. So he pulled the shuriken from its little holster on a cord around his neck and used it to cut a slit in the vinyl, of sufficient length to allow his body to pass through. Kicking, he pulled himself up onto the tarp and rolled over onto his back. 

As he lay there for a moment catching his breath, he noticed a rhythmic vibration of the tarp. A look around soon explained this. Mr. Pemberton had climbed the pool ladder and, rumbling, was making his first tentative but determined steps toward Norbert across the top of the tarp. 

15

He dragged another pillow behind his neck, the better to watch this splendid creature ride his one-eyed trousersnake. He loved watching his manhood disappear inside her and slide back out all glossy, and see her lovely white breasts gently sway as she swung her hips from side to side or front and back. The black garter belt around her hips masked the division between the tanned and untanned flesh, and set off both. The robe was draped in a wide circle around her and lay across his shins. Something about the stockings drove him crazy with lust; they were incomprehensibly sexy. Possibly because they sheathed the areas of leg that were normally visible, but left naked exactly what he wasn't supposed to see. 




The Firefighter's Ball



She would drive herself down on him with a rhythm like a jungle drum, and he could see her quiver with each thrust. She would reach the base, their pubic hair would mingle, and she would grind herself against him. She began to breathe rapidly in a series of short, high gasps in and uneven sighs out. He reached back and kneaded her buttocks, which little more than filled his big, rough hands. 

She was relentless. He felt like there was nothing he could do to resist this onslaught, and she was completely in control. He was being fucked! And he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. And God, she was fierce. She rode his cock up and down with a wild, intense look in her eyes, and it was as if she were in another world, a world of crazy animal rutting, as if she had never had anything else in mind to do but fuck and fuck and fuck. 

And she had an amazing ability to squeeze him inside her. Unbelievable, he thought. It's like she's giving a blow job with her other lips. Aside from the exquisite pleasure she was giving him, he felt a sensation growing in his nether regions he'd never felt before. It was a kind of vibration, a warm tickle that surged along his rod. It was like the electricity that buzzed and crackled up and down the apparatus in Frankenstein's laboratory. He was on the verge of a monstrous orgasm.

"OH!! GOD!! BABY!!" he bellowed.

"GOD DAMN IT!!" she snarled back at him. "CALL ME MA'AM!!" 

16. 

There was a forgotten towel behind the shed that housed the pool supplies, and he dried himself off as best he could. The people whose pool it was had no reaction to his splashing and cursing and the barking of that damn dog. He had dived under when he spotted the Rottweiler, and had swum under him towards the ladder, then clambered out and up onto the shed roof. His shuriken was in that pool, he realized. It's not going well, he told himself. But I'm close. Soon the interloper will face the wrath of Norbert Puffer. She will see who is worthy of her, and then - then, she will be mine. Oh, yes, she will be mine!

He let the damn dog bark its head off and used the pool shed to climb up on the roof of the house. It was an easy jump to the roof next door, and he landed like a cat. He began a search for the best way down to the ground, or perhaps a skylight. Sadly, his wet shoes could get no purchase on the steep roof and, arms windmilling, he slid inexorably toward the edge and dropped into a hedge.

Painfully, he extricated himself from the sharply-manicured hedge, and looked around for the dog. Nowhere. And it had stopped barking. Fine. Now to get into the house. He unbuttoned his back pocket and pulled out his lock-picking kit. The back door, I think. Heh heh heh. Oh, yes, she will be mine... 

17.

He had passed out. He remembered watching her consume him over and over and over, heard her begin to utter a stream of the filthiest observations and suggestions and promises he'd ever heard, even in the Boy Scouts, had felt the impending orgasm of cataclysmic proportions that would soon, he knew, come crashing down come rippling, radiating out in waves of warmth from his balls to envelop and wrack his whole body with spasms of an exquisite agony of indescribable pleasure, actually felt the kickback from the explosive white-hot surge that rocketed from his throbbing cock, saw her, with every millimeter of him buried inside her, freeze for a moment with a look of delighted smugness on her face that said she knew what she had done to him. Then she had begun the endgame.

Up and down she slammed herself, faster now but at a steady pace, thrusting, pounding, driving, impaling herself again and again. He matched her rhythm; he clutched her thighs, her hips, her ass; he passed his hands across her belly, her bouncing breasts; he fingered her perineum. By now the best that she could manage was "fuh... fuh... fuh... fuh... fuh..." and she grabbed her nipples and pinched them. 

He raised his hips about six inches off the bed. A paroxysm shook her, from tilted-back head to curled toes, her eyes fluttered closed, and a feral scream, low, guttural, like a tigress, tore loose from her throat. Tears of ecstasy welled up in her eyes, and a torrent of wetness gushed down his penis and soaked his groin and hips. "NEVER... STOP... FUCKING... ME!!" she demanded, in a voice like the little girl in The Exorcist. 

Despite his best efforts, however, his penis felt that it had done its bit and now, wanting a nap, it had started to go soft. But this she-beast was having none of it. She slid herself up and down him a few more times, and she seemed to be giving every iota of her focus to the squeezing and releasing action. She was grunting and growling and making gorilla noises. She was entirely unwilling to let it go. He could see her labia prolapsing around his cock. Oh Christ, he realized. It's like she's milking it! That's about the time that the white area had begun to crowd into his peripheral vision and rush to fill his field of view.

* * * * * * *

He woke up to her face above his, and he smiled to see the look of grave concern there. "Are you okay?" she asked, and dabbed at his forehead with a damp washcloth. She made him sit up and put his head down.

He grinned sheepishly. "I passed out? Huh. Well, no wonder. God, you're incredible. How do you do that? That squeezy thing?"

Her tough persona returned. "Oh yeah, you like that, don't you, you little slut?!" she answered, and pinched his nipples hard. "Say it!"

"I like it! (Ow.) But how --?"

"I do my Kegels every day." 

"Who's Mike Eggles?"

She was overcome with harp glissandos. It's not that it was particularly funny, or that she was laughing at his mistake. It was the look on his face; he so sincerely wanted to kick Mike Eggles' ass. She explained it to him, and then her face lit up like an angel as she said, "Hey, let's go for a swim. My neighbors won't mind; they're out of town. Come on. We'll go thru the back." 

18.

He must have gotten turned around, disoriented somehow, in his run for the tree, losing his sense of which house was hers. So that wasn't her house whose roof he'd leapt to. So it belonged to the insomniac redneck who was cleaning his shotgun. Look, anybody could make a mistake. He limped a bit now that the buckshot had peppered his thigh. He was going to need a new pair of Dockers. But he was nearly there.

Still no sign of the dog. And for the love of Pete, the front door wasn't even locked.

He silently opened and shut the door, limped in, and stood for a long moment in the dark, every nerve alert. They must be sleeping together, he deduced. Well, soon he'll rue the day. They'll both rue the day, he decided. Nobody pulls this kind of betrayal on a Puffer. He pulled the collapsible baton out of his sock. A Shawn Eckhardt Special, he thought grimly, referring to the guy who'd used a similar model to whack Nancy Kerrigan across the knees on behalf of Tonya Harding. Norbert suspected that it was a hatchet job by the liberal media, but had learned not to say so.

His eyes having adjusted to the dark, he thought, he crept on cat-feet across the carpet and searched for the bedroom. He found a guestroom, but the bed was covered with Christmas crap. Negative. 

Uh-huh. Linen closet. 

Okay, no, that's the bathroom. Really wet in here. 

Must be in here. 

He extended the baton. Target acquired. 

He flung the door open and sprang into the room. There! He raised the baton above his head and brought it down with all his strength. It made a satisfying thwump. He slammed it into the bed again and again, laughing maniacally. Then he thought of something. In all the mercenary magazines and RPGs, this makes a 'sickening, wet sound.' Not 'thwump.' Never 'thwump.' He stopped. He crossed back to the door. He flipped on the light.

No one. Disheveled bedclothes, discarded undergarments, a wet washcloth. He said "poop" under his breath and, in a fit of pique, hurled the baton away. It spun under the bed. He realized a ninja could leave no evidence behind, and besides, it cost him 80 bucks. He said "poop" out loud and got down on his knees to reach under the bed. It was then that he heard, from behind him, the low, deep, angry growl of the extremely territorial Mr. Pemberton.

19.

She had brought a cold bottle of cheap champagne out with them, and he popped the cork as they snuggled in the neighbors' hot tub. He sat above the main bubble jets, and she sat in front of him, and they collided softly as they drifted about. With one arm behind her, she played with his dick, which obligingly stirred and stiffened. He poured two glasses, handed her one, and resumed exploring the periphery of her areolae. 

He stopped.

"Who told you to stop, Cowboy?"

"Sh, sh. Listen a second. Do you hear a dog?"

THE END