Summer of FirebyKarenas©
This is my Summer Lovin' contest entry. Comments are welcome. Votes are appreciated.
Warning: there is a MMF threesome.
Every summer is fire season in Texas. Hot temperatures, low humidity, and strong winds manifest, particularly in July, to make every day a fire waiting to happen. But when July comes during a drought year, the volunteer firefighters, like my husband, exhaust themselves trying to keep up with the need.
Earlier in the year a new volunteer showed up. My husband, Jake, took him around, showing him the ropes. They seemed to hit it off, especially as they had the same interest in fixing up old cars. Randy was a thinner, blonder, younger version of my husband. After seeing them together at the station or the auto parts store, people often asked if Randy was Jake's long-lost brother!
Randy quickly became a fixture at our place, usually in the garage. Jake appreciated his help on his old Charger so much he often asked Randy to stay and eat with us. I didn't mind—Randy was polite to me and never failed to compliment my cooking.
Mid-way through June, I had settled into my summer "uniform" of modest shorts and a sleeveless cotton blouse that I tied at my waist. I always wore a bra, too, as my breasts were large enough to need it. (Jake always said my breasts were exactly the right size: a handful. But then, he has big hands.)
Gradually, I noticed that Randy was attracted to me yet trying not to be. I knew by the way he alternated between staring at me and pointedly looking away from me. While I was flattered, I was also a little worried. I didn't want Jake to become jealous.
That turned out not to be a problem.
One night, the guys had already sat down at the table. I was still putting dinner on the table, which required leaning over to set bowls and plates down. I didn't know it at the time, but my top button had come unbuttoned and I was giving very generous glimpses of my cleavage and the lacy tops of my bra cups every time I leaned over. Jake evidently could tell that Randy was taking full advantage of the view.
He cleared his throat. Randy quickly looked away—but also flushed bright red. Jake said, "My wife is a beautiful woman, isn't she, Randy?"
I looked at Jake, wondering what he was up to. I saw Randy nod his head.
"What's that Randy, I can't hear you?"
Now I knew Jake was up to something, but I could not figure out what.
Randy replied, "Yeah, Jake, Lynn is beautiful."
I started to say thank you, but Jake shushed me. He said to Randy, "Don't call her Lynn; refer to her as my wife."
Humoring Jake, Randy said, "Sure, sure, that's what I meant to say. Your wife is beautiful."
We all began to eat, although there was an undercurrent of something new and uneasy. No one spoke for several minutes.
Out of the blue Jake asked Randy if he'd ever been to an art museum. Randy said yeah, he'd gone to one back when he was in school.
"Art museums are full of beautiful things, aren't they, Randy?"
"Yeah, Jake. Beautiful paintings and shit."
"Randy, why do you suppose people put those 'beautiful paintings and shit' in museums?"
Randy shrugged. "To share them, I guess. So everyone can see them." He looked as perplexed with the conversation as I felt. Jake is not exactly a museum type of guy.
Jake said, "I suppose you're right, Randy." He turned to me: "Lynn, undo another couple of buttons."
I looked down and saw the original unbuttoned button. I felt my cheeks flush. I looked at Jake to ask him what in the world he was doing. But when I saw the look on his face, I found I couldn't do anything but comply. Shakily, I unbuttoned the next two buttons. Now, there was only the very last button and the tie holding my shirt together.
I heard the blood rushing through my veins. It was so loud I wondered if the men could, too. I tried to continue with dinner as if everything was completely normal. I don't think I managed it very well: I felt like I was blushing all over. I was hot. I was breathing too fast. I couldn't decide if I was excited or mortified.
Every time I looked at Jake he looked like he was simply enjoying his dinner.
Randy left as soon as he possibly could. As I cleared the dinner dishes, I castigated Jake. "What was that all about? How dare you embarrass me like that? And Randy, too! Poor guy—you'll be lucky if he ever comes back to help with your stupid car!"
"Hey now," Jake said. "Leave the Charger out of it!" He chuckled. "Babe, that boy eats you alive with his eyes every time he looks at you. Don't worry—he'll be back. And panting for more, I bet!"
"More?" I screeched in outrage. As I continued to yell at Jake he calmly approached me, put one hand behind my back and the other hand down the front of my shorts. He pulled me to him so I couldn't get away at the same time as he curled his fingers up and through my embarrassingly wet pussy. He pulled his hand out and showed me the wetness.
"Embarrassed are you?" He asked. "Humiliated, are you?" He stuck both thumbs in my waistband and tore my shorts down my hips. "I don't think that's exactly what you've been feeling, Dear." He turned me around and pushed on my upper back. I bent over the dining table. I pushed my butt back and when I felt Jake's erection, I sighed. I always loved it when he got all demanding.
Jake unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. He aimed himself and entered me to the hilt in one long, sure stroke. He gave a happy-sounding sigh. He began a long-practiced rhythm of strokes that he knew would satisfy us both. With one hand he grabbed my ponytail for leverage and with the other he began rubbing my clit.
I was so ready to orgasm that I didn't care that the table was biting into my hip bones. Another couple of strokes and I was cumming. "Ah! Ah!"
I knew that my cunt muscles were clamping down on Jake's cock in a way that never failed to send him over the edge. Sure enough, I heard him gasping, "God! God! Lynnie!" as he came into me.
We lay there, draped over the dining table for several moments as we each tried to get our breathing under control. Eventually Jake stood up and wandered back to the bathroom. I picked up my shorts and followed him. He handed me some tissue as I got there and said, "Now then, there'll be no more nonsense about buttons and such, will there?"
I wiped up some of the cum dripping down my leg and murmured, "No, Jake."
The first of July topped out at 102. It was to be the first of 28 straight days of 100 or above temperatures. It was also the first of eight straight days of grass fires so numerous and spread out that everyone had to be on duty for virtually all the eight days. Independence Day fireworks were either discouraged or banned across the majority of the state.
Fortunately, the wind was much less severe on the 9th, giving everyone a much-needed break. As we lived closer to the firehouse Jake brought Randy home with him that morning. Jake went straight to bed and I showed Randy to the guest room. Neither man moved for the next couple of hours.
When I heard the shower start I began making breakfast. Eggs, hash browns, sausage, biscuits and gravy: I knew Jake, at least, would eat like a starving teen. It was Randy that had been showering. I told him breakfast was on the table and went to wake up Jake.
Jake evidently had been playing possum—when I reached out to touch his shoulder he grabbed my hand and pulled me on top of him. Playfully, he kissed me and grabbed handfuls of tits and ass. Through my laughter, I told him to go eat.
When I stood up, I noticed how filthy Jake was. Soot and grime covered his body and now the bed. I looked down at myself and saw they now covered me as well. I took off my shirt and shorts to change. While I was standing in my bra and panties, Jake said, "Look how pretty you are!" I smiled at Jake and did a little pirouette. "Sweet!" he said.
I shuffled through my drawers for clean clothes, but Jake stopped me. "You're fine as you are," he said.
"Jake!" I exclaimed.
He pulled my hands from the bureau drawer and gave my ass a little pat. "Go on; just like that. Get my tea. I'll be right there."
I walked into the kitchen, jittery and vulnerable-feeling, and poured Jake his tea. I set it down and then sat down myself. I wondered if Randy was looking at me. I wondered if he knew why Jake was doing all this. I wondered if either man would be able to see the wet spot on my panties the next time I got up.
When Jake came in and sat down I looked up at him. He was wearing a shit-eating grin. I looked at Randy. He was studying his plate. I sat there, exploring my feelings about the embarrassment and the excitement and the apprehension of the moment. I acknowledged to myself that part of me, anyway, was enjoying the way Jake was showing me off. It made me feel sexy.
After inhaling a prodigious amount of food, Jake belched, pushed his seat back a little, and said, "Randy, my wife's got a great little figure on her, don't she?"
Randy glanced up at me, then slid his eyes away again. "Uh, yeah, Jake."
"Lynn, Honey, stand up so we can really tell."
I stood up, slowly. I felt like my knees were knocking together. Jake motioned me over closer to him and Randy. "What do you think, Randy?"
Randy looked his full this time. In a voice full of gravel, he said, "Yes, Jake, your wife has a great figure."
Jake grinned, "What do you think is my wife's best feature?"
Randy was growing bolder. "Of what I can see? Legs."
Jake seemed to mull over the question. I knew my cheeks were flaming scarlet and my panties were getting wetter. Jake finally said, "You're right. She's got great legs, but we can't even see some of her very best features." I think my mouth fell open as I could see where Jake was going next. "Honey, take off the bra and panties so we can decide."
I think Randy moaned. I know I groaned. Furiously, I tried to come up with some way to get out of this without Jake simply escalating it. I couldn't think of anything. So, my hands shaking, I slowly undid the catch of my bra. I let the straps slide down my arms, but held the cups over my breasts for a moment more. Finally, I let it drop away from me. My nipples immediately hardened in the air conditioning.
Grimly, I stuck my thumbs in the waistband of my panties and pulled them over the fullness of my hips and ass. I let go and they, too, dropped away from me.
"Stand up straight," Jake ordered. "Turn around for us."
How far was Jake going to take this, I wondered. I shivered a little as I remembered sharing our fantasies—which included exhibitionism, coercion, wife swapping and threesomes. My eyes widened.
Jake cleared his throat. Since we had also talked about spankings, too, I turned around.
Jake murmured his approval. He reached out and smoothed his hand over my backside, cupping a butt cheek. "Nice ass, eh, Randy?"
Jake turned me around again. He cupped a tit, weighing it. "Nice tits, too, huh?"
Randy said, "Oh, yeah! Too bad we can't see her pussy, though."
"That is a problem," Jake replied. Then, "Lynn, bend over and grab your ankles."
I felt dizzy with excitement and embarrassment. I knew he did not mean for me to squat, so I stepped away from the table a bit, took a deep breath, and began bending over. I kept my knees straight. I knew, as I bent, what a view I was presenting. Finally, I was bent completely in half. I grabbed my ankles. I could picture in my mind the two of them looking at my ass, my legs, and my pussy peeking from between them. I pictured my pussy glistening with moisture—I wondered if they noticed. They looked long enough to have memorized every fold: yeah, they noticed.
"There's only one thing that would make this picture prettier," Jake said.
"Oh, yeah!" Randy replied, apparently in agreement.
Jake hauled off and spanked me, planting a bright red handprint right in the middle of one ass cheek. I yelled in surprise.
Randy said, "Oh. Uh, yeah, that's prettier."
Jake surprised the hell out of both of us with his next words. "The other one needs a handprint, now. Go for it!"
Randy hesitated only a second before spanking me on the other ass cheek. I yelled again, again in surprise. Why did I think he wasn't going to do it?
Jake said, "Now that is prettier than a picture." He paused. "And will make a pretty picture, too!" I heard a camera click. "I'll email it to ya." Jake yawned big. "Later. I need more sleep."
Randy said he did, too, and both men went back to bed, leaving me with the equivalent of a raging hard-on!
Many hours later, Randy appeared, briefly. He muttered something about home and hamburgers and fled.
An hour or so after that I went on to bed. As I was lying down I heard Jake say, "Get over here and take care of this giant erection that's keeping me from sleeping."
I snorted. "Take care of it yourself!"
Jake threw the covers off. "You know that that is not the way this scene's gonna play out." He rolled me on top of him, seemingly effortlessly. He asked me, "Fuck or blow?"
Who was I kidding? "Fuck," I said. I positioned my wet and needy pussy above his cock and slowly lowered myself. His hands went to my tits as I began fucking myself with his cock, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed. Jake moved his hands to my hips to help me with the movement. He bucked his hips up on my every down stroke. It felt so good! "Fuck! Jake! God! Fuck!"
I started rolling my hips with the down stroke, rubbing my clit against Jake's pubic bone. I felt the orgasm building. One more bump and grind, and there it was. I yelled incoherently as the orgasm rolled through me, then slumped to Jake's chest. Jake humped up another time or two and then his orgasm hit. He yelled my name and I could feel his warm cum. We both drifted quickly off to sleep.
The next day, the wind picked back up and so did the fire danger. There was no rain in the forecast. It was entirely possible we wouldn't see rain until hurricane season. Jake spent most of the rest of the month working, firefighting, or sleeping. I saw little of him, and even less of Randy.
I made sandwiches by the dozen and hauled bottles of water by the case as my contribution to the firefighting effort. Tending my garden became frustrating as my tomatoes turned hard and my melons exploded. I tried to visit with friends and maintain normalcy as much as possible. It was hard, though.
The way Jake had been showing me off to Randy popped into my head frequently through each day, causing me to be in a perpetual state of sexual awareness, if not downright arousal. That, coupled with my fears for Jake every time he went out on a call meant that I was jumpy, needy, and even bitchy. Jake often didn't have the energy to deal with me.
Towards the end of the month, there was a sudden influx of young men from South Carolina who worked for the Forest Service. They were training in fighting range fires and gave the local volunteers a much needed break. Jake was able to come home and relax.
He slept nearly a full day. When he awoke I was so glad to have him home that I couldn't stop myself from pestering him. I wanted him to take me out to dinner, to fuck me, to finish some "honey-do's," to have long talks with me; and all at the same time! Of course, all I managed to do was to chase him out to the garage.
I pouted. I peeked through the windows to watch him work on his Charger. I pouted some more. I heard Randy drive up and knew I'd lost Jake for the day. I decided I was being childish and didn't even like myself much. I hoped if I masturbated that would take the edge off.
About an hour later, I came out of the bedroom, relaxed and in a much better mood. I had spent some time primping, too, and felt pretty. I decided to take the guys some fresh lemonade and share my prettiness with them.
After donning a white sundress and wedge heels, I took the lemonade out to the garage. "I thought you boys might like some refreshment," I said in my best flirtatious manner.
Jake said thanks with his head still in the engine compartment. Randy said thanks as he rolled out from under the car. I smiled broadly at him and handed him a glass of lemonade. In doing so I had to move closer to him. I pretended not to notice that I was giving him quite a peep show up my dress.
I stood there, letting him look, waiting for Jake to take his drink. Jake finally finished whatever he was doing. He leaned backwards to stretch his back and eyed me up and down. He drained his glass, never breaking eye contact with me.
"I love it when you wear white," Jake said. "It makes me want to get you all dirty."
"You can get me dirty any time you want!" I heard Randy chuckle along with Jake. I glanced down at Randy—I'd forgotten he was there. I blushed.
"I gotta finish this carburetor, but I'll be in to dirty you in a few hours. Be ready."
I rushed to get the lemonade glasses and get out of there, but as I was leaving, I heard Randy exclaim, "Damn! You two leave me with a hard-on all the damn time!"
I rounded the corner, but stayed close, hoping to hear what Jake said next. I didn't hear all of what Jake said, but I definitely heard, "...don't have to leave...." I ran back to the house.
When my hands stopped shaking, I poured myself a glass of lemonade and held it up to my forehead. I felt feverish. I felt like I couldn't completely catch my breath. It sounded like Jake was suggesting that Randy join us in the bedroom!
After chasing my thoughts around in circles for quite awhile, I decided I would just confront Jake and ask him what he was intending. Then I could decide how I felt about it. With that sort-of decision made, I was able to get dinner going and make a large salad. I sat down with a magazine and the TV to wait for Jake to come in.
I heard the door open and stomping of feet. Jake yelled out, "Lynnie, come give us a kiss." I went to the entry and there they were: hot, sweaty, dirty, manly. Jake—and Randy—had never looked sexier. My desire went from zero to sixty. I put my hands on Jake's shoulders to steady myself. I pressed my lips to his and he pressed back. I licked the cleft between his upper and lower lips and he opened them. I swept my tongue inside and he groaned. After a moment, he grasped my upper arms and pushed me away. He looked at Randy and commanded, "Kiss her."
Randy put one hand on my neck and the other on the back of my head, imprisoning me for his kiss. He leaned in and paused, though, as if asking me for permission. Then he captured my lips in a scorching kiss. It was as if I could feel all the desire that Jake's teasing had pent up in him. I was left breathless.
The guys left me there, trying to breath, as they went to wash up. Eventually I followed Jake into our bathroom. "What was that all about, Jake?" I asked. "What exactly is going on?"
Jake didn't speak until he was through washing and since he was particularly meticulous in his hand-washing that was a few minutes. "Lynn," he paused. "You know I love you more than anything...."
"Me, too, Jake! That's why...."
"Lynn," he paused again. I looked at him closely and realized he was having a hard time saying whatever it was. I determined to be patient. He verified that by saying, "I want—that is—damn! I can't say the words!" He whirled away from me. In a quieter voice, he said, "Lynn, please? I swear it's not bad—there's nothing bad. I just need...."
I stepped towards him and smoothed the shirt across his back. I didn't like to see him so agitated, almost doubtful. I kissed his back several times. I said, "All right, Jake."
He whirled around and hugged me tight. He kissed my brow and then my lips. He looked at me and I could see his eyes saying thank you.
He told me to go to the living room and wait. I did. Randy was already there. Jake came in and looked at both of us. He said, "Randy go sit by my wife." Randy came and sat beside me on the sofa. Jake sat across from us. "Take her hand. Tell her how much you want her."