Firefighter's Rescue

I smiled and relaxed as the blinking red numbers on the clock confirmed that the power had finally returned to the house. It had been roughly 16 hours in my neighborhood, and that was more than enough for me without air conditioning and my beloved computer.

I rolled around the white sheets with the sunlight spilling into the room and quickly convinced myself to get up for a glass of juice and one of my compulsive email checks. I stumbled sleepily down the hallway, tugging at my insignificant cami and boyshorts that I had slept in the night before because of the impossible heat. I walked down the stairs, stopping at the kitchen for the juice when I smelled smoke filtering in from the dinning room. I stuck my head through the connecting doorway and saw black clouds billowing from the air conditioner. "Goddamnit!" I shouted, more annoyed than scared. I scooted quickly across the room to unplug the device, but I could still see flames flickering inside the box and dashed back into the kitchen. I groaned as I grabbed the cordless phone and thanked my lucky stars that I had been too lazy to carry the basket of clean laundry upstairs with me the night before. I snagged a pair of pants and a shirt out of the basket and ran out the door.

"911, what is your emergency?" the voice said over the phone as I stood standing in my front yard feeling very naked.

"Ah, my power came back on and the air conditi-"

The voice on the other end cut me off. "Is this a life-threatening emergency, ma'am?" the annoyed voice questioned.

"Well, my air conditioner is on fire, if that counts," I sarcastically replied.

That seemed to get the woman's attention. I relayed my address and I could already hear the sirens approaching. "They're coming from a large fire a mile or two away, ma'am. They'll be there shortly. Do not go back into the house."

I was trying to get off the phone with the woman so I could get some clothes on before the entire fire department got there, but it seemed to be the woman's job to keep me under control until the police arrived. "I can see the flashing lights, thanks for your help. Bye!" I said to the woman and clicked the phone off as the fire chief's car pulled up to the house. 'Why me?' I thought, pulling my fitted blue jeans up, buttoning them as the fire chief approached me. He smiled and followed me to the backyard where the AC unit extended out of the dining room window. I pulled my shirt on over my head as we walked.

The smoke had subsided a bit by the time we arrived. I guessed that unplugging the unit had been a smart idea. The fire chief cautiously put a hand to the back of the air conditioner. "It's toast," he proclaimed.

I rolled my eyes. "What, do you have some kind of mystical connection with the damn thing?"

His eyes were laughing. "That smell is a pretty sure indicator, ma'am." He smiled an "excuse me" and mumbled a few words into his walkie-talkie that he balanced with his helmet under his arm. I followed him as he started to walk back down the driveway where the red fire truck was pulling up. The men getting out looked sooty, dirty, and tired. I began to notice also that the fire chief was wearing his turnout pants, which seemed unusual for a management position. He directed the men to go into the house to check things out and to open some windows at the all clear so that the smoke would circulate out of the house. I studied him while he spoke to the men. His light brown hair was cropped close to his head, his jaw sharply chiseled and adorned with a fine line of stubble that made him look even more masculine, if possible. A tight navy tee shirt clung to his hard body. I thought back to when I had been leading him to the backyard, pulling on my own shirt. I could almost feel his eyes on my back. I imagined that they were searching for the skin that had peeked out as I raised my arms over my head.

He turned back to me. I shook my daydreams out of my head and looked at him with concerned eyes, wondering where they had been coming from before my house. "Big house fire over in the lawns," he said, answering my question. "We weren't sure if everyone was going to get out ok."

At this the upset that had not bothered me before seeped into my thoughts, and I began to realize that I could have still been sleeping and the house could have burned to the ground. I felt the color leave my face and the shakes setting into my body. His warm hands reached out to steady me. He grasped me sturdily by the arms, and I was made even more faint by the conflicting emotions washing through me. The panic and upset was going one way, and in the other direction I felt myself almost flush with wishing he would move a hand to the more intimate spot between my waist and hip.

I almost lost my balance as a wave of dizziness spun me around. The chief let his helmet crash to the ground as he grabbed hold of me. I steadied myself with a hand planted firmly on his hard chest, looking up into his eyes, then quickly pulled away, embarrassed. He laughed out loud this time, and led me the few feet to my front steps, where I sunk down and leaned against the peeling paint on the banister. He sat down next to me with an arm around me and pulled me to his direction instead. I stopped thinking and leaned into him, smelling sweat and smoke and feeling my panties get wet from the closeness of him. His hand looped around my wrist and I was vaguely conscious of him taking my pulse. "Sweetheart, how ya doing, we don't want you going into shock here," he said quietly into my ear. It tingled from his breath and the deep scratching of his voice.

"Your pulse is a bit quick," he resonated. The vibration surged down my body to my crotch. My cunt throbbed along with my pulse and I knew the shock of the fire wasn't the only thing accelerating it. "Maybe we should bring you in to the hospital to get checked out."

"No, uh, I'll be fine," I stammered. "I hate hospitals. I'll just, um, maybe lie down for a while," I said, starting to stand and faltering.

He pulled me back down gently. "Alright, no hospital, but you need to stay put," he said determinately. His next thought was interrupted by the sooty, dark haired firefighter who popped out of the front door.

"All clear, sir," he said. "The smoke should clear out in a couple minutes," he mentioned, more to me than the chief who probably knew as much.

The chief nodded, and picked up his walkie-talkie. He spoke into it for a minute, and it squawked, then the other firemen appeared and marched past us down the steps and across the lawn. "Should I radio for an ambulance?" the same man questioned, his eyes concerned but tired.

"No, she'll be alright," the chief reasoned reluctantly, "but you boys go on back to the station and clean up. I'll be by in a bit."

The man nodded his acceptance of his orders and soon the street had cleared of the heavy equipment. The fire chief's car remained in the driveway.

"What do you say we get you back in the house," he said, his arms still around me.

I nodded, and began to try to stand again, but he smirked at me and my independent personality. In a flash he had stood and captured my body in his arms, lifting me gently up the stairs. I resisted, of course. "I'm fine, what do you think you're doing?" I hissed, looking around, hoping that the neighbor's didn't see. I knew that even though there was no one so obvious as to stand on their front lawns that they were all hidden away watching at windows behind curtains.

He laughed heartily. "See, I knew you were ok. You didn't seem to be the type that got flustered easily, or to stay that way long."

"I'm fine," I insisted again. We were now in the house, at the bottom of the stairs. "Besides, this dainty cradling isn't how firemen carry you anyways," I protested, hoping he'd put me down.

Instead, he saw that the color had returned to my face, and he grinned again. He twisted me around and tossed me over his shoulder in the traditional "fireman's carry" position. His arm was wrapped around my knees and my backside was near his face. I was sure he could smell my heat, and as if to confirm my thoughts, he laughed again, unprompted.

"What's so goddamned funny?" I asked, not bothering to convince him further to put me down.

"Nothing," he said nonchalantly, then brought his other hand to the back of my legs. He jostled me slightly, pretending to need the extra support of his other hand. Instead of supporting, however, the fingers just trailed lazily back and forth over my legs and sometimes my ass.

We reached the top of the stairs, and he looked into doors until he found my bedroom. He dumped me on the bed. We were both laughing.

He stood above me next to the bed, and stuck out his hand. "My name, by the way, is Austin," he said, the same grin on his face.

"I'm Cat," I said as I shook his hand. He winked at me and brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

I rolled my eyes and shoved myself off the bed. "I'm going to go get in the shower now," I said. "You know where the front door is, right?" I asked dismissively as I strode past him towards the bathroom.

He didn't answer me, so I swung around and nearly bumped into him. We both stopped. His jaw was set, and his eyebrows were in a hard line. I hadn't meant to offend him, and again I was soaking wet at the nearness of him. My nipples were hard and stuck out from my body. If I swayed a little he might even feel them through the cotton of his shirt...

"Um, I just wanted to say 'thank you.'" I said, and without thinking, I closed the small distance between us and covered his mouth with mine.

He pulled back for a half second in surprise, then took comfort in the warmth. His hands moved from their angry fists at his sides to be splayed across my back. They moved lower to hold my ass as my hands found the back of his neck, and I scratched lightly up through his close-cropped haircut.

His tongue searched my mouth, and we both relaxed into the security of the feeling. I held his head and pushed my body against his. The tension and immediacy was obvious, and he gripped tighter and tighter, wanting to explore but respecting whatever boundaries I might have. I broke the kiss and pressed my face against his, and his lips tapered off into small kisses along my neck. He slowed, seemingly trying to control his urges, and pulled away very slowly to look me in the eye.

"You're welcome," he said in a low voice. His hands were in my hair, and I closed my eyes and let his touches envelop me. I could tell he was getting ready to walk past me down the stairs, walk away from me, leave me with this burning passion and no release.

I scrambled to find words. "I wish I could return the favor," I said, touching the side of his face. He smiled and shook his head.

"Yes," I said, and took his hand. He looked at me questioningly but obliged and let me lead him down the hallway. His eyes were surprised when I led him into the bathroom and closed the door, leaning him against it and kissing him long and gently. I went to the tub and turned on the hot water for the shower, testing the temperature with my hand.

I returned to him, cupping his face, feeling his hands at my waist. "Cat," he murmured, "are you sure about this?"

I kissed him in response, running my hands down his hard chest, feeling the muscles under the cotton, wanting to kiss them each, wanting to rub the tiredness and the soreness out.

His lips surrendered and his body followed, responding sharply to my touches. I stopped and smiled at him, then pulled my tee shirt over my head. I unbuttoned my jeans and let them fall to the floor, standing in the cami and boyshorts he'd originally seen me in when he arrived at the house. His lips curled into a grin, and he ran his hands over me again, feeling the curves of my body through the fabric. The shower was making the room humid, and my hair began to get damp around the edges, sticking to me at the back of my neck.

He flexed and pulled his tee shirt off over his head. His body was beautiful, and I just watched as he undressed for me. The dirt clung to his body, even in spots where his clothes had covered. When he was naked, he smiled sheepishly, kissing me and pulling me close against him. His cock was hard and thick, and I kept telling myself to slow down and enjoy things. The anticipation was killing me.

He slowly took the bottom edge of my cami in his hands and lifted it over my head. He kissed between my breasts as he dropped it on the floor and returned to my body to pull the boyshorts down. He took in my body with his eyes as I kicked the fabric to the side. I let him look at me for a moment. He leaned back on the door and just stared with greedy eyes, his cock throbbing. I saw him start at my feet, cute and pedicured with pale pink polish, then up my legs to my frog tattoo on my calf, my luscious thighs and the neat, tight curls of dark hair. He lingered on my pale skin and hourglass figure, and I could already imagine his mouth taking my full breasts and nibbling on them. His eyes continued on to the simple chain I wear always around my neck, my full lips that he had already tasted, my pretty face, sultry eyes, short brown hair.

He closed in on me, kissed my neck, my shoulders gently. He dipped to lick a nipple, to kiss my belly, then stopped and breathed in my musky scent. He kissed the crease between my leg and my curls, then lowered his mouth and flicked his tongue upwards. I moaned as he tasted me, positioning myself so he could reach me better, leaning against the cool marble of the sink. He was insistent, kissing to my labia and sticking his tongue as far into my darkness as he could. I grabbed his head, pulled his hair gently as he flicked my clit over and over again, knowing that I needed release, and needed it soon. His hands grabbed my ass and pulled me towards him, and I came with a short gasp and a long sigh. He kept at it gently, only letting me come down for a second, then pushing harder and higher, licking and sucking and groaning into my pussy. It was completely intense; I hadn't even finished my first orgasm when my next rolled over me. I cried out loud this time, wanting him to go further but not knowing if I could handle it.

He let me rest. Again, he kissed my stomach, my breasts, my face, my lips. I melted against his body, into his arms, letting him support me until I regained my senses beyond him. Gradually I began to feel past the throbbing of my loins, and recognized the soft tickle of his chest hair, the scent of his sweat, of his yearning for me.

I smiled up at him and kissed his lips, then pulled back the shower curtain and stepped inside.

He joined me, standing back as I let the hot water cascade over my pale body, the wetness darkening my hair, the warmth making my body pink. I pulled him into the stream and kissed him, the water running down our faces and between our locking lips.

I reached behind him to the ledge that the soap rested on. I lathered it in my hands, then worked it across his shoulders and chest, nudging him back out of the water so the soap didn't rinse off right away. I rubbed my hands across his belly and his arms, then his hands, holding them and washing the soot off of them. He watched with caring eyes, and would sometimes kiss the corner of my mouth when I was near enough. I knelt and soaped his legs and feet, then instructed him to turn and worked my way back up. When I reached his ass I soaped the cheeks, tickled along his crack, then kept moving to his back. I spent a long time there, kneading his tired body, listening to him sigh in pleasure. When he finally turned back around I saw that his erection was even harder. I grinned at him.

"Oh, I missed a spot," I said devilishly, and gently cupped his balls in my hand, slippery with soap.

He let out a groan and his head tipped back, his hand reaching out to the tiled wall to support him. I slowly massaged his balls in my hand, letting the side of my thumb rub up and down his shaft. I let my other hand travel his body; along his side, to his belly, around to grasp his ass. I stroked him a few more times, watching the expressions on his face.

I put the soap back on the ledge and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him and rubbing myself against his soapy body. He moaned into my mouth, and my nipples were aching for more as they rubbed against his chest.

We stepped back under the hot stream of water, the soap rinsing to bubbles that swirled around the drain. I pulled him out of the water again. "Lean back," I whispered, and poured some shampoo into my hand. I lathered it in his hair, scratching behind his ears and massaging his scalp. I wanted his whole body to be in complete bliss. When I stopped, he turned obediently and let the water carry the suds down his body, then grabbed the soap and swung me around.

My back was against his chest and his left arm looped around my body. It rested under my breasts and I just wanted him to touch me, please me, make the fire die down a bit. Instead, he teased me, rocking his pelvis against me as he soaped me up. He began at my belly, moving up towards my breasts then down towards my crotch teasingly, never reaching either destination. He played with my belly button, then slid quickly in between my breasts to soap my chest, staying far away from my sensitive nipples. He washed my neck, my shoulders, my arms, then dropped past my pussy to my legs. He crouched in the tub and washed my thighs, outside then inside, his fingers tickling and teasing and making me moan. He worked lower to my knees, calves, and finally my feet, where he took time to slowly drag his fingers along the soles and kiss my ankles. When he stood again he turned me and delicately rubbed my back, my ass, my belly again. When his soapy hands finally covered my breasts I moaned loudly and collapsed back against his body. I could hear his breathing becoming ragged too, and his cock touched my body as I writhed against him. He wanted it as much as I, but was delaying the pleasure for both of us, torturing his throbbing cock, my hard nipples and clit. He washed my hair tenderly, but I could feel him rushing, then making himself slow down.

I finally turned to kiss him, the two of us finally clean and relaxed, now aching for each other's touches. I bit his lower lip, and he responded roughly. He pressed me up against the wall forcefully, then came up behind me. I didn't think my need could be any more, but when my nipples hit the cold tiles and his chest touched my back, I felt myself pressing back for him, needing it, nearly whimpering for it.

His hand was over mine on the wall. He entered my pussy from behind, stroking a few times. I felt full and wanted to buck back hard against him, but all of a sudden he was pulling out. He bent me over farther, and I balanced against the tub. He stuck his face back in my pussy, licking and sucking, biting my labia, pressing his tongue up me, nibbling my clit. He licked my asshole, and for a second I clenched and started to stand up, but he held me in place, licking and tonguing it, and it felt damn good. He lapped at my folds and my ass, sticking his fingers in my pussy and stimulating me in every way he could. I felt myself rising to orgasm again; I couldn't have stopped it if I wanted to; the feeling overwhelmed me then continued to rise. I lost track of his fingers and tongue and was just crying out and moaning for him.

He finally returned to inside my body, and fucked me in this bent over position for a moment. Then he helped me up to lean against the wall again, and his hands continued to roam my body. I felt his cock deep inside me, his hands on my breasts, his breath in my ear. His moans drove me wild, and now my passions purely off of his. With each thrust we both moaned harder, pushed deeper, and led each other farther into the pleasure. I felt his breath quicken, a half gasp, when his orgasm grew nearer, and knowing he was close made my body clench around him. He swung his hand down to where he was entering me, then touched my clit lightly. My eyes squeezed shut and my ass pressed back against him. We felt more like old lovers who knew each other's bodies and the ways they moved than strangers seeking comfort. His fingers pressed harder and harder and in seconds I was cumming again, and this time, finally, I heard him moan and grasp my body tightly as he came with me.