Firehouse Rock

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Suburban housewife/Web Porn Model lives out a fantasy.
6.7k words
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I

God, it felt good to be out in the sunshine! The sun stroked Monica's back with heat that spread throughout her body like a hot steaming mist. Her simple gauzy cotton skirt brushed her thighs in a complicated syncopation with the wind and the length of her stride as she walked down the busy street. Her long straight auburn hair lifted a little in the breeze, teasing her bare arms and face with its dancing strands.

She stopped, closed her eyes and smiled, slowly turning right there on the sidewalk, lifting her face to the pulsing sun. Passersby circled around her, but she was only slightly aware of their presence. She listened to the street talk: the sounds of cars and trucks circulating through the streets, a dog barking in the distance, laughter coming from the corner coffee house café and the telltale exhalation of breath from men passing her.

The men took her closed eyes as an excuse to boldly eye her cleavage and the daring expansive swell of breasts visible above the tight white paper-thin tank top. Her top did little to hide the perfectly centered nipples that boldly jutted forward, merrily teasing, begging to be touched, to be suckled.

Her back arched as a sudden stiff breeze lifted her long skirt and swept up her legs to tickle her naked pussy.

Something clutched and immediately released her right breast.

She gasped and snapped her eyes open, staring into the smiling brown eyes of a young man who sheepishly apologized and grinned. He would have pleasant thoughts and a hard on for the rest of the day, remembering that he actually copped a feel of a beautiful redhead's huge breasts right there on the street.

She smiled knowingly, her face dazzlingly bright, and turned to continue her walk.

A few yards down the street she squinted at the sun which seemed to suddenly brighten, burning. She stopped and reached into her purse for her sunglasses and slipped them on, unaware she had stopped on a wide concrete driveway.

"Monica???"

A voice issued from the dark recesses of an open fire station door. The gleaming red of two fire engines dissipated into inky blackness in stark contrast to the brightness of the brilliant hot summer day outside.

She turned and peered into the darkness, sliding her sunglasses down off her nose to see better into the gloom. Man sized shapes gradually emerged from the darkness.

This was interesting. She didn't think she actually knew any firefighters. She had always admired them, of course. They were local heroes who worked tirelessly during the yearly wildfires that seemed to spring up like malevolent forces early every summer. This summer had been no exception; five separate fires had licked huge swatches of the local mountains black.

"Monica?"

They were closer now. She could make out four figures as they came closer to the light. "Yes?" She looked at them in puzzlement and still managed to appreciate their rugged good looks and well-muscled hard bodies nearly bursting from black tee shirts and jeans. One held a basketball under one arm and she imagined they glowed a little from recent exercise. Her eyebrows lifted and she pursed her lips in appreciation and her blue eyes flicked up, down and around to touch each one in turn.

The tallest one stepped up to her, his eyes registering surprise, delight and a touch of lust. His chest rose as his breath deepened, grabbing and discarding air hungrily.

"It IS you... Monica Majors?" He eyes traveled leisurely down her hourglass form and casually back up and lingering on her half exposed breasts and finally back to stare into her eyes. His eyes were a startling grey-blue in contrast to black hair and tanned handsome face.

"Yes? Do I know you?" She inhaled sharply, her eyes huge, shocked by a sudden sexual punch. She blinked, her breasts seemed to strain forward toward this man of their own accord as if alive and demanding to be touched.

"I told you it was her!" The fireman turned to speak to the three men behind him.

Monica felt his eyes leave hers with an almost physical wrenching pain. Her body was suddenly alive and tingling, her nipples so hard they ached, her cunt filling with lustful juice. Every square inch of her skin strained forward and animal lusting anticipation ran a little sticky line down her inner thigh.

"We know you!" one of the other men laughed. "We are some of your biggest fans!"

Monica looked at the one who spoke, her eyes feasting on his good sculpted dark good looks and licked her lips. God, they were ALL beautiful! Her hands itched and her fingers twitched as if already caressing those magnificent arms.

She snapped back to reality when his words reached through her lustful haze.

They recognized her!

She had always known this could happen. Until now she had managed to stay safely anonymous in her own home town. It was too late to disavow her name as she had already answered, and it would be pointless to deny that she was Monica Majors, suburban housewife, erotic writer and Web Porn Model with a personal website membership in the thousands. She had been, after all, practically licking them all up with her eyes, and their perusal of her was just as sexually charged.

She looked at all of them, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Well, she had to admit, if she was going to be recognized, being seen by four gorgeous firefighters was probably the most exciting way for it to happen.

She dipped her head and looked up through her lashes at the men and smiled. Well, she had always had a warm sexy spot in her heart for men in uniform, especially firefighters. Hadn't her erotic story "Firehouse Rock" proved just that?

"My biggest fans? Well this is a surprise! I never expected to be recognized in my own neighborhood!"

"I'm Jim." The tall one reached out for her hand. She automatically extended her hand and watched it disappear into his warm grip. He indicated the men behind him with a careless sweeping gesture, "this is Roy, Simon and David." Voices of the men behind him rustled and rushed over her skin. Wordless, caressing, anticipating, warm.

"Very glad to meet all of you," Monica smiled and shook hands with each of them in turn. The last one, David, pulled her palm to his lips, lingering deliciously. When they finally released her, her body was singing. Each handshake was a caress, each touch of flesh against flesh a promise.

Jim stepped up close she had to look up to see his face. His eyes devoured her. "We have your posters up in the dorm. And we all really loved that story, 'Firehouse Rock'." He grinned. "It's kind of funny; this almost plays like in the opening scene." He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His breath was hot and sweet and hinted of coffee.

She tilted her head and smiled ruefully. "Yeah, um, I noticed that, too."

Not only paying members of her website, but members who read her work and bought her merchandise! This was exciting and a little scary.

Her second career as a nude model and web entrepreneur had given her more financial security she had ever achieved in her former businesses. But she still had to live in her hometown and doubted that many of the committees she sat on would appreciate this overtly sexual side of her, if this got out.

His voice dropped to a whisper and he gently, almost reverently brushed away a lock of long red hair that had blown into her face. Her skin tingled where he touched her. "We could give you a tour and prove what big fans we are, if you are interested."

This was obviously more than a simple invitation. Monica knew he was asking for more, asking for all of her that bright July afternoon.

They knew her body in pictures and videos. They knew her fantasies in her erotic stories and pictorials.

They knew that this exact scenario -- being recognized, being offered a "tour" and then thoroughly, gorgeously fucked by a group of lusty uniformed men - was a favorite fantasy of hers.

They were asking in their burning eyes and tense postures, if she wanted to make that fantasy a reality, right here, with them.

She could feel the yearning and fire radiating from them with an intensity that rivaled the sun... that same sun that suddenly burned at her back, causing her to take an involuntarily step forward into the cool darkness of the fire station. A sudden breeze licked her legs, whipping her skirt and long hair forward, cooling and pushing her deeper into the darkness, out of the light, out of reality. So. Even the elements were nudging her forward, toward the men who stood breathlessly waiting.

How far could she really go? She brushed her hair out of her face and considered. Four men. Could she honestly handle all four? As the writer in her story, she controlled the men's actions, their movements, their lusts, carefully guiding them where SHE wanted them. She knew she could handle two real men - she had before with wonderfully wild and insanely orgasmic results. But four? Could she taste, touch, stroke and allow herself to be tasted, touched and stroked by these men, these four strangers?

And what of Jason? Her wonderful husband who encouraged her darker lustful side and loved to watch her with other men... He had proven to her that he loved to see her get off with other men, but he was always right there, watching.

Hmmmm. She was little on the spot today. Jason was out of town on business and these wonderful men were right here... right now.

She knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make one of her favorite fantasies come true... a fantasy that Jason loved to hear about, over and over again. Their nightly phone call while he was out of town always included Monica relating one her fantasies or real sex adventures while they both masturbated. Ironically, last night's phone call has been a retelling of this very scene. What did he say when they were both panting and mellowing after their communal masturbation had reached it climax? Oh yes. He said he wanted that story to come true; he wanted to hear about the EXPERIENCE rather than a mere fantasy.

Of course, Jason is pretty clear about one thing: that he always wanted to be there for the sex, even if he just watched... Would he forgive her, this once, for doing it without him?

Monica struggled for a moment. Jason would, if he were in town, tell her to go for it and watch with a huge grin and even bigger hard on, waiting for his turn. But today he was in a conference and could not be reached. This decision was hers and hers alone.

She looked the men over once again. They waited patiently, staring at her with admiration and lust. Heroes. Gorgeous. Young. Wanting her. Four men. Should she? She smiled. How could she not? She WAS Monica Majors, sex goddess and web porn star. Monica Majors could handle anything. And Monica knew in her heart that Jason would understand as long as she gave him a detailed report tonight. He did so love her recitations of her sexual adventures...

So, tonight she would give him a new adventure!

She tilted her head and laughed, her blue eyes twinkling merrily, and surrendered to the moment. "I would love a tour!"

Jim's eyes widened and he exhaled noisily as he turned and led her into the darkness, with the other three men following close behind. The big outside doors rumbled slowly shut. Reality receded with disappearance of the visible outside world the door slowly barricaded from view.

With the gentle final bang, the door hit the pavement. The firehouse had swallowed her whole.

II

Monica looked around her with interest, her eyes already adjusting semi-darkness. Yes, they had two big red fire trucks that sparkled even in the dim light, with a dizzying array of hoses and chrome boxes and gauges and gismos and, what was that over there? A shiny silver pole that descended from the upper story! Monica laughed and turned to grin at the men following her. "I always wanted to do this!" She skipped over to the pole, her long gauze skirt fluttering behind her. She grabbed the pole with one hand and dashed around it, giggling as the five men blurred around her. Their laughter joined hers. She went faster, until her long skirt billowed and rippled, offering tantalizing glimpses of thigh and split second winks of white bare ass.

She slowed and, dizzy, started to collapse, and was caught by several pairs of strong arms that steadied her. She grinned up at their smiling faces.

"That was fun!"

She stood up and made a show of smoothing her skirt over hips and legs, fully aware that four pairs of eyes followed her hand movements with interest. She deliberately brought her hands up gracefully and lightly brushed under and over her breasts, trailing up her chest and neck to her chin before throwing them over her head in delight. "I feel great!"

"I'll bet you do!" one of them whispered. Three men mumbled assent, their eyes bright.

Monica looked at them, her eyes huge with feigned innocence. "Sorry for the detour!" She looked at Jim, who stood shock still, staring, a prisoner of sudden overwhelming lust as he had watched her spin around the pole. He shook himself with an exhalation of surprise and with one eyebrow cocked in acknowledgment of her affect on him said, "Okay... let's go!"

Each step echoed hollowly on the hard concrete floor. The air was thick with sexual tension, the silence electric, as if the merest word could spark each man to spontaneously combust into a ball of sexual lust.

Monica followed Jim up the stairs. She tilted her head and appreciated his tight round ass as he walked up in front of her. All she had to do was reach out and just... grab a handful. She smiled at the thought and contented herself to concentrating on how his ass moved with each step. She imagined that ass bare and flexing as she wrapped her legs around his waist... Her cunt flooded at the thought.

Behind her, the three stragglers fought to be the one to directly follow her up the narrow stairs. Roy, his dark skin still slick from his workout of earlier, won the short scuffle and hurried to follow her. The others followed and strained to catch glimpses of Monica's ample ass undulating and swaying under the long thin skirt with each step.

The stairs opened into a large common room, complete with two couches and a couple of easy chairs, a large dining table with several chairs pushed neatly in, a large screen television and a state of the art stereo system arranged comfortably on shining hardwood floors. They walked the length of the room and Monica peered into an office, cluttered with maps pinned to the walls and stacks of papers in neat piles, a few more steps took them past a wide opening that led to a sparkling functional kitchen.

The door at the end of the room, their obvious destination, was closed. Jim opened it, leading her into a large dormitory. About a dozen beds, with bookcases, chests between them outlined the perimeter of the room. A large dark wood desk with a huge flat screen computer monitor stood in the far corner of the room. A bank of lockers painted yellow filled one wall next to an opening to a large locker-room style shower of gleaming white ceramic. From what she could see, Monica counted six shower heads and had the distinct impression there were more further into the room.

Jim stopped in the middle of the room and indicated the walls with a bemused smile. "See? I told you we were fans."

Monica looked around and laughed. She turned in a circle and counted six posters of her in various poses and several 8x10 photos carefully pinned to the walls around most of the beds. One bed seemed especially decorated. She stopped and counted eight photos arranged artfully above the bed. "Who sleeps here?" she asked.

"I do," Jim said coming up right behind her. She imagined she could feel his breath in her hair.

She turned and looked up at him. Placing her hands on his wide chest and spreading her fingers, she moved her hands across his wide chest, watching her hands as they traveled the wide expanse of his hard chest. She could feel his heart beat beneath her hands. She allowed them to travel up to the side of his face and she guided his face close to hers. "Thank you for the compliment," she whispered.

She kissed him. The world fell away in spinning tornadoes. His lips on hers were warm and soft and delicious. At first he was tentative, taken by surprise, but as the heat of their lips pressed together became unbearable, he moaned and dove into the fire, his tongue tasting, exploring, wandering. Her fingers snaked onto his hair and she pressed her body into his, her soft curves conforming to his hard sculpted mass. She hummed.

Monica pulled away from him and touched his lips with her fingers. "Wow," she said. She turned to the other men looking on with barely concealed jealousy, keeping one hand caught in his hair as if for balance. "Do you all kiss as well as Jim?"

A chorus of promises and challenges erupted. Monica laughed lightly and turned back to Jim. She reached up and kissed him again, lightly, and caressed his head before letting go reluctantly. "I guess I will just have to find out!"

She put out her hand to the men and one of them stepped forward eagerly (Simon?). Using her hands like a master musician, she ran her hands all over the front of his tee-shirt and over his broad shoulders and up to his head. He was already straining to kiss her, his green eyes half closed with lust. She smiled and darted forward to give him a little lick across his lips. He followed her blindly. She dove in again and planted a small kiss on his cheek, he turned his head to her, moaning, whimpering even. Monica took pity on his hungry mouth and greedily pressed her lips on his. His tongue lunged into her mouth with searing heat.

The room was spinning again.

Monica had to hang onto the firefighter in order to keep her balance. He tasted different, but so good. Hot, musky, salty, she let the sensations tear at her senses and ended the centuries-long kiss with a small bite on his full lower lip. He moaned deep in his throat as she pulled away

Monica extended her hand to the next man in line. Just as she twisted out of Simon's grasp facing the next man who eagerly reached for her, he grabbed her hips and pulled them to him so her ass ground into his pelvis. She laughed and wiggled her ass over his obvious huge hard on and beckoned to the man in front of her.

"Come on baby, kiss me! Show me what you've got!" she whispered. He obliged, diving into a deep soulful kiss that made Monica gasp in surprise. The man behind her thrust his hips forward and moved one hand to her belly, pressing her to him. The other hand stole up and almost reverently cupped her ample right breast, his hand circling its immense mound slowly, savoring this actual touch of what he had only seen in photos before.

As if that first sexual touch had released them all from polite restraint, hands were suddenly all over her. There were hands on both her breasts, cupping her ass, running over her belly down toward her clit, hands cradling her head while she was being thoroughly kissed, and, oh god, hands on her bare legs, running up her inner thighs.

She moaned and spread her legs as the questing fingers found her wet naked cunt and demanded access. Fingers probed her clit, circling expertly for a tantalizing moment then continued inward, parting her swollen labia and finally tickling at the entrance to her waiting body.

She pulled away from the man kissing her just long enough to glance down and see the man whose fingers were probing her suddenly completely disappear under her skirt. Hot breath seared her aching clit and his warm tongue made delicious contact. The fingers at her cunt multiplied and rhythmically plunged into her. In and out, while the tongue at her clit licked and sucked, and the mouth on hers plundered.

12