Fox & Fireman

"I've reported the incident to the police. I'll be able to testify against the driver in court, so I guess our paths will cross again."

Her heart skipped another beat. When they got to Irving at four in the morning Darryl walked to her to her door and she invited him in. "Let me get into some clothes and I'll give you back your blanket."

"How about I come by and check on you this evening? I can get it then. It'll be a good excuse to see you again. If you don't mind, that is?"

"Will you wear your fireman's uniform?"

"You mean these, my turnout gear?"

"Sure, I like it. A lot." Careful, girl, she told herself.

"I can if you want."

In her doorway she let the blanket drop to the floor and put her arms around him to peck him on the lips. No mistletoe required.

"Tonight then?" asked Darryl. "Around seven?"

"It's a date," she said and watched him amble out to his truck and drive away.

Once inside she took a shower and crawled into bed, weary. She thought she'd have nightmares about the wreck, but didn't. Melissa's dreams were filled with Darryl. Wet dreams! In one, he carried her to a big circular bed scattered with rose petals in a candlelit room; he wore his uniform but she was unclothed. He set her on the bed and, piece by piece, took off his fireman's clothes: his boots, his coat, the pants with suspenders and his helmet. Crawling across the sheets he came into her arms. After kissing her slowly for minutes on end his tongue sought her body, starting with her breasts, down her flat tummy and, when he reached the final destination, licked and kissed her lovingly between the legs until joy shook her entire body. Mind whirling, her head tilted back, eyes rolling up in their sockets, she cried out with intense pleasure that never seemed to end. Then he made love to her, gently in the beginning and, as time went on, more and more powerfully until she thought she would faint. That dream blurred into another where they rode horses along a deserted beach. They came upon a deserted cove and walked through the surf foaming around their ankles. Darryl picked her up and strode over the sand to a massive cliff. Underneath a shady overhanging of rock they groped passionately on a green blanket. The dream ended with her satisfied and exhausted. She woke up, her loins aching for him in real life and she wished he lay beside her to make those dreams a reality.

In the morning she called her parents and friends from her house phone and told them what happened. Her folks came to visit to see she was still in one piece; her father said he'd talk to the insurance company and help her hunt for a new car on the Monday after Christmas. After that she made arrangements to get a new cell phone. The rest of the day she puttered around the house counting the hours till seven. Nervous and excited, she decided what to wear that evening and set the table with candles and thawed two steaks. She wished she had a present to put under her tree for Darryl, but she could improvise something for him to unwrap---if he wanted to.

Seven finally arrived and with it, her beautiful fireman. He wore a striped brown and blue T-shirt with faded jeans and black high-topped Chuck's. Darryl looked so good to her Melissa got steamed up by the mere sight of him. His physique filled out those jeans and that shirt so nicely, a magnificent male specimen; he'd been mostly obscured by the loose-fitting fireman clothes. His hair seemed lighter than last night, sandy colored, combed and clean. In the waiting room she hadn't noticed he had the deepest green eyes. In his right hand he carried a large duffel bag with 'Ladder 53' printed on the side. His uniform must be inside! Darryl unzipped the duffel bag to remove a bottle of wine (a little gift for you, he said) and presented it to her like a trophy. It took her some effort to keep from smiling so hugely. He was so sweet.

"I took you serious about the turnout gear, but didn't want to scare your neighbors wearing it. They might think there's a fire nearby," he told Melissa, admiring her and the outfit she'd selected.

Melissa was delighted he seemed to like the pink cap-sleeved tee that left her midriff bare and the scandalously short denim skirt. She would have to be cautious sitting down or he'd be able to discern the stem cherries decorating her white bikini underpants. Her pink bra concealed her obvious excitement at seeing him again. She read the label on the wine bottle.

"Should I put this in the fridge?"

"In the freezer, but just for a while. It's better with a little chill to it. Ah, are those candles I see?"

"I wanted to cook for you but I didn't want you to be able to see the food," she giggled like a schoolgirl. Stop that!

"Aren't you a good cook?"

"I guess you're about to find out."

"Can't wait," he said putting down the duffel bag. "How's your bad leg?"

"It's nothing bad, thanks to the hero fireman who whisked me from the inferno. Your hand must be okay; I see you aren't wearing the bandage on it anymore."

He held up his palm for her to inspect. "I've burned myself worse taking care of business. Just a small patch today. It's worth it to see you still walking around. You're too lovely to be destroyed by fire."

She wanted to hug him and thought to herself no, then yes. At last she obeyed her instincts and slid her arms around his neck, the bottle dangling from her hand. Melissa pecked him on the mouth like she had at the door last night and he held her close making the kiss linger. His cologne drove her as wild as his kisses; by the time their lips parted her knees were weak. She navigated to the refrigerator as steadily as her legs would allow to chill the wine.

They made small talk while she busied herself in the kitchen. While the steaks broiled they each had a glass of wine and another one with dinner. He complimented her cooking; the candlelight cast flickering shadows on his boyish face. She put the dishes in the sink and he moved the candles from the dinner table to the coffee table and poured them more wine. He made a show of admiring her Christmas tree.

Melissa turned on a soft FM station and then joined Darryl on the couch. By now he knew about what's-his-name and she knew he was thirty three, divorced and a skilled kisser. They'd only been on the couch two minutes before becoming unable to keep their hands off one other. His kisses, delicate one minute and lip-crushingly fierce the next, made the hair on her arms stand up (among other turn-ons that she kept to herself.) Their tongues dueled as they kissed and when Darryl breathed hotly into her ear she wanted to tear his clothes off. A warm glow grew inside her, building and building until Melissa purred like a warm and content feline. When he held her tightly in his arms he made her heart race and juices flow, another thing she kept to herself, he would discover that for himself soon enough; she hoped. When they paused briefly for him to refill their wine glasses, her head spun from more than just wine.

He asked, "Do you mind if I take my shirt off?"

"I thought you firemen were accustomed to heat. Is it getting too hot in here for you?"

"I have to admit it's nothing changing the temperature on the thermostat will help."

"Then be my guest," she whispered slyly, rubbing her nose against his. "But just be warned I might have to change clothes myself. My mini-skirt is not cooperating."

"I don't mind," he said, sticking his tongue out at her and laughing.

Then her fireman stud slipped ever so slowly and gently from her arms, rose to his feet and stripped off his shirt. He possessed a wide chest and gorgeous steel abs that caused an intake of breath. When he swiveled to place the shirt on the coffee table, she admired the muscles rippling under the tanned smooth skin of his back and it was all she could do to keep from reaching out and squeezing the hard flesh directly behind the rear pockets of his Levis. The sight proved too much for her and she got up to press her breasts against his back while her fingertips traced the lines of his abdomen. Oh God, she thought, her throat tight (as well as something else!) She planted little kisses against his skin, his cologne in her nostrils.

Melissa knew she'd better change clothes now, especially her undies, they would definitely betray how aroused she was, but her guest might find the condition of them intoxicatingly sexy. He turned around to face her and she could not prevent her tongue from tracing wet paths from his chest down to his navel. The thought of what she was doing excited her to the point she worked up the nerve to go into her room and change into something flimsy and naughty. Melissa selected a black negligee she'd been saving for someone special. If Darryl wasn't special then there was not a man on earth who'd ever see her in it; the negligee would forever stay in the drawer. She took off her skirt and top then, deciding to be daring, her bra and soaked panties. Checking in the mirror, her lush body appeared to be clothed in nothing but smoke, which she thought appropriate.

When she entered the living room again Darryl was naked except for his fireman trousers with the suspenders keeping them from falling down. Melissa would take care of that with her own two hands. And then . . .

"Wow!" exclaimed Darryl when he saw the negligee. "You're not planning to go to sleep right now, are you?"

She swayed over to him and said in his ear, "You don't think I'm sleepy, do you?"

He put his arms around her and drew her close for another kiss. His hands traveled below the hem of the negligee to squeeze the cheeks of her bottom, his stomach thrusting helplessly against hers. She ground against him and slipped a hand inside the front of his fireman's pants, found what she wanted to find and did a little squeezing of her own. Melissa said she hadn't expected him to bring a fire hose with him too and they both cracked up laughing, before resuming kissing and exploring each other's bodies. His bold fingers roamed, found her creamy center (at last) and Melissa gasped, biting at her top lip, her body quivering shamelessly with a needy desire.

As he dipped his fingers inside her wetness, Darryl suggested, "You do look a little tired, baby, maybe you should lie down."

"You're not dressed for bed," she moaned, "not yet," reluctantly relinquishing what she'd been holding in her hand.

She slid each suspender over his bare shoulders and knelt to draw his pants down. While kneeling there she made love to him with her mouth until he could no longer contain himself. His legs shook, his back arched and the sound of his drawn-out groaning and Melissa's repeated swallowing filled the room. Darryl collapsed to his knees, pushed her onto her back on the floor, yanked the negligee up to expose her swollen bosom and slithered between her parted thighs. When they joined as one, Melissa gasped and lost control of herself as wave after pounding wave of pleasure swept over her jolting spasming body from head to toe. She never felt so good in her life; her fireman was not only brave but strong, very strong. Inventive too.

His creative variations carried them from the floor to the couch and, finally, to her bed. He loved her in ways she thought not possible, bending her body to his, making her want to belong to him. Since she was responsible for fanning the fires of his lustful vigor, Melissa had little choice but to submit to his indomitable urges.

Together they spoke a primal language of love where there were no words. Whimpers caught in her throat then escalated to delirious inarticulate screams. He brought her to the pinnacle of release too many times for Melissa to count and still she craved more, begging for it, with him catering to her every whim. When she thought the peak had been reached, time after time Darryl made her scale new heights. She wanted to do things to him she'd never done to any other lover and did them, and more. Electric sensations surged through every nerve ending in her body, he exceeded in pleasing her beyond her wildest dreams and innermost secret fantasies. It was all-consuming sheer pleasure, pure and wanton, until both of them were limp from exhaustion.

Filmed with perspiration, they decided to take a shower and then continue where they'd left off in the bedroom again, but wound up making love in the shower stall before they could reach the bed.

He made love to her like an untamed animal well into the night. They dozed in each other's arms and, when dawn peeked through her window, began to cuddle and love anew. It would be a beautiful day!

Today was Christmas Eve and he had to work another 24 hour shift. He promised to call her later, but every time her phone rang it wasn't Darryl. Maybe he'd had a fire to fight and forgot. But Christmas Day came and went without a word. Then another two days passed with still no contact from Darryl. She called his cell and it went to voicemail both times she tried. Was he just using me, she thought, hurt and more than a little bitter. She didn't have his email address so after obsessing endlessly she decided to look up the fire department in the phone book. A man picked up and Melissa asked for Ladder 53. The gentleman at the other end of the line gave her the number of a different station. She dialed that.

"Grapevine Fire Department, Ladder 53," said a polite voice on the phone.

"Is Darryl on duty today?"

The voice asked hesitatingly, "Darryl Walters, ma'am?"

"Yes."

"If you don't mind me asking, who is this? Are you a, uh, relative?"

Oh my God, Melissa swore under her breath. Was her hero a married man? What to say? "I'm just a friend of his. Wanted to wish him a merry belated Christmas. If he's not busy."

"No, that's not it at all, he's not busy." There was a catch in the man's throat when he spoke. "I guess you haven't heard, ma'am. Darryl, uh, left us Christmas Eve."

"He resigned?" she asked in shock.

"No, ma'am, I wish that were the case; I hate to have to be the one to tell you this. There was a house fire, faulty Christmas lights. He went back inside to save the family's pet their little girl was crying about. Some propane tanks in the barbeque grill in the garage exploded. A wall collapsed on Darryl and we lost him. The funeral's tomorrow if you'd like to attend. I can give you directions if you'd . . ."

Melissa didn't hear the rest of it, didn't want to hear. She dropped the receiver, devastated. She'd call back later for directions when the shock wore off. For the time being she stared blankly at her Christmas tree. And her tears began to fall.