by Olivia Rush
Hours after the fire, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Sure, we’d gotten it under control as fast as we could’ve, and no one was hurt, but there was something about it I just couldn’t shake. I thought about how it was a local business in the area that seemed to have gone up for no reason—the staff was unclear on just what had happened. I’d asked them what they knew, and all they could say was that one minute they were working, and the next, a fire had erupted, seemingly out of nowhere.
Right now, however, I had some drinks to worry about. It had been a little impulsive of me to ask Chloe out for drinks, and I chalked it up to the adrenaline from the fire and the rescue. Really, I should’ve given her more shit about putting herself in danger like that, leaving the truck and getting so close to the blaze. A stray spark or anything else could’ve been bad news.
That wasn’t what I’d been thinking about, however. Once the fire was under control, I’d turned to her standing in front of me, her stunning green eyes wide with excitement. The offer of drinks just came tumbling out of my mouth, as though I’d had no control over myself.
I stepped into the low-lit cocktail bar, a hip joint with modern art on the wall, stylish bartenders preparing craft drinks, and trendy indie music playing on the speakers. It wasn’t normally my kind of place, but I was in the mood for something that wasn’t the usual dive I went to with the crew.
My eyes locked onto Chloe. She was seated at the bar, a light blue drink in front of her next to a stack of papers. She seemed very focused on what she was looking at, her long, curly hair draping down, the ends touching the papers. Her face was in an expression of concentration as she moved her pen over them.
“Not interrupting something, am I?” I asked.
Her eyes shot up and widened for a second in surprise.
“There’s the hero!” she said, standing up out of her chair.
Chloe was wearing a surprisingly short black pencil skirt that showed off her long, lovely legs, and a thin blouse through which I could make out the outline of a lacy bra. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess that she was dressed to impress.
She threw her arms around me as I stood in front of her, and I was a little surprised at this display of affection. I felt her breasts press against my chest, her warm body small against me. Down below, my cock twitched just a bit, seemingly aware on its own that a very sexy girl was holding me in her arms.
“Sorry,” she said, realizing that she might’ve been a little too familiar. “I’m still a little keyed up from the show earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, sliding into my seat.
I turned my attention to the papers in front of her.
“What you got there?” I asked.
“Oh,” she said, clicking her pen shut and stacking the papers into a neat pile, “just some schoolwork for the kids. Spring break essays. Nothing nearly as exciting as rescuing young women out of burning buildings, I’m afraid.”
“You know,” I said, “not every job needs to be thrilling. I love my job, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes a gig like teaching sounds pretty nice and low-key.”
“Is that right?” she asked, her dark red lips pulling up on one side just a bit. “Maybe we can work something out—you come sub for me, and I’ll run the show down at the fire station.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “Something tells me the guys would appreciate having you to look at instead of me. Might be good for morale.”
“Is that so?” she asked. “And just what are you saying?”
A rush of blood ran through me as I realized she was fishing for compliments.
“Because,” she went on, “from where I’m sitting, it sounds to me like you’re calling me pretty.”
“Just stating the obvious,” I said, flagging down the bartender for a drink.
I ordered a gin and tonic, and soon the refreshing-looking drink was placed in front of me. I took a long, slow sip, letting the booze cool me down. I felt like I was still running hot from the job earlier, and the cocktail was really hitting the spot. Once I’d taken my sip, I set down the glass and looked away for a moment, thoughts of the fire filling my head again.
“You look a little preoccupied,” said Chloe, her soft eyes moving slowly over my body.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Just thinking about the fire.”
“What about it?”
“Nah,” I said. “I’ve got a rule against talking shop on dates.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” she asked with a coy tone. “Are we out on a date?”
“Just some after-work drinks,” I said. “I mean, it makes sense that we’d be getting to know each other a little better, what with you bringing your kids to my job and all.”
“That’s very true,” she said. “Always nice to make a new friend.”
The little smile on her face suggested that she wouldn’t mind being more than friends, however. And shit, the idea wasn’t sounding too bad to me either. I’d been on dates like this in the last year and none of the girls had inspired in me the driving lust that Chloe was already bringing to the forefront of my mind. I’d been drinking with her for less than fifteen minutes and I was already thinking about what she’d look like bent over the bar, her skirt hiked up around those round hips of hers.
I took another sip, hoping the booze would calm my ass down.
“But anyway,” she said, bringing the subject back around, “it’s not really talking shop if I was there with you when it happened. I’m almost like a coworker, in that case.”
I let out a bark of a laugh. “Let’s not go crazy,” I said. “But I guess you’re right—you were there to see the whole thing go down.” One more sip and I started with what was on my mind. “It’s just that we’ve had a few fires like that around town—all in Williamsburg.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve heard about a few fires in the last couple of months. I just assumed they were accidents.”
“That’s usually the case,” I said. “Most fires are just electrical problems in these old buildings, or someone falling asleep with a cigarette in their hands—that sort of thing. Occasionally you get some wannabe criminal mastermind lighting his place up for insurance money, but those cases are pretty few and far between, and they’re easy to spot.”
“But these fires?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “They’re all local businesses, all in the same part of town, all starting to the total shock of the owners.”
Chloe leaned in, looking intrigued.
“You’re thinking they’re arson?” she asked, her voice low and conspiratorial.
“Way too soon to say anything like that,” I said. “Just something about all of it seems off to me.”
“Oh,” said Chloe. “Maybe there’s some crazy arsonist running around town, and it’s up to Ethan the hero firefighter to put an end to his reign of terror.” Then she narrowed her eyes. Her hand fell onto my knee as she spoke. “But he’s not alone in his task—he’ll have the fabulous Chloe Parker, full-time elementary school teacher and part-time brilliant detective to help him crack the case.”
I chuckled again, enjoying the feeling of her hand on me. “You watch too many movies,” I said.
She sat back, her hand sliding slowly off of my leg. “What can I say? I’ve got an active imagination. And when most of your free time is spent grading papers and coming up with lesson plans, then you can’t help but fantasize about more exciting things.”
“Not too late to become a crime-fighter,” I said. “Pretty sure there’s not even an application process. Just need a fancy costume and a thirst for justice. Though if you and I are going to be serious about this thing, then you’re gonna have to be the sidekick.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that right?” she asked. “You really think I’m the sidekick type?”
“Maybe not,” I said, “but unless our archnemesis ends up being an eight-year-old making excuses about why he doesn’t have his homework in, then I think I’d be better off in c
harge. Besides, I was in the service—I’m used to it.”
“Wow, ex-military,” she said. “I’m learning all sorts of interesting things about you.”
She wrapped her lips around her drink in a way that got me thinking about what else she might be able to do with that mouth of hers.
Far from calming me down, the booze had only revved me up. I watched as Chloe uncrossed and crossed her legs, turning her body toward me in a way that showed off the supple flesh of her thigh. She sat back, her shoulders squared up and causing her breasts to strain against the thin fabric of her blouse. I was less and less able to concentrate on the conversation by the second.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” I said, leaning forward a little bit.
“Mmm, really?” she asked. “I’m sure I’d love to find it all out.”
Chloe and I burst through the door to my apartment so quickly that I worried for a second it might fly off the hinges. We pounced on each other instantly, our lips locked together as we kissed with incredible intensity. I kicked the door shut, my lips still on hers. I opened my mouth and slipped my tongue into her mouth as we moved deeper into the apartment.
She tasted so fucking good—like honey and cinnamon and sex. I ran my hands along the curves of her body, my cock getting so stiff that it was almost painful. I needed to be in this girl, and now.
“Someone’s ready for me,” she said as she dragged her fingertips over my bulge.
Two could play at this game. I lifted Chloe up onto the kitchen island and slid my hand up her dress, working my fingers under the fabric of her panties.
“Feels like I’m not the only one who’s ready,” I said, my lips inches from her ear.
Before she could respond, I took her earlobe into my mouth, kissing it gently and flicking it with my tongue. I slipped a finger into her, her lips hot and swollen for me, while moving my lips down the swan-like slope of her neck. I fingered her vigorously while working her clit with my thumb. Her body shook with pleasure, and she was clearly having a hard time just sitting up straight.
“Fuck yes!” she cried out, pulling me closer and kissing me hard.
I needed to get her out of her clothes right then and there. I couldn’t wait another second. My hands moved over the buttons of her blouse, undoing one after another, exposing more and more of her cream-colored skin. When I was down to her waist, I pulled the blouse out of her skirt and swooped it over her shoulders, exposing breasts that seemed ready to burst out of her bra.
Chloe returned the favor, snaking her hands under my T-shirt and pulling it off over my head. I stood bare from the waist up, Chloe’s hungry eyes locked onto the flat, chiseled plane of my abs and the solid squares of my pecs. She seemed so taken by the sight of my body that she almost looked a little dazed.
“You OK there?” I asked.
“Yeah, um,” she said. “That’s just…a hell of a body.”
I could say the same for her. But instead of speaking, I acted. Closing the distance between us, I undid the clasp of her bra, pulling it off and giving me a full view of her heavy, ripe breasts. Her pink nipples were small and hard, and I couldn’t help scooping up her tits, one after the other, and showering her nipples with licks followed by some enthusiastic sucking. Chloe moaned as I sucked on her tits, her hands running through my hair.
“Fuck,” she said. “Fuck-fuck-fuck.”
And I hadn’t even gotten started. I tugged down on Chloe’s skirt, and she helped me out by shimmying her hips, the black fabric sliding down her luscious thighs. Seconds later, she was in nothing but her lacy thong and heels.
Her hand returned to my bulge, caressing the contours of my cock through the fabric of my jeans. Chloe eagerly opened up the button and pulled down my zipper, then yanked down my skintight boxer-briefs and jeans with one swift motion. Chloe took hold of my cock, stroking it enthusiastically, moving over the long, thick length of the thing with expert skill. I was more aroused than I thought—my cock was as solid as a stone and already dripping.
“Tell me what you want,” I said, speaking in that same low purr.
“You know what I want,” she said, her voice breathy and sensual.
“Yeah, but I’m gonna need to hear you say it. I want you to ask me very, very nicely for it.”
She flashed me a playful, seductive glance, her emerald eyes narrowed with intensity.
“I want this big, fat cock in my soaking wet cunt right fucking now, pretty please, with sugar on top.”
That did it.
I scooped Chloe up effortlessly, taking her into my arms and turning her around. I put my hand on her upper back, pressing her upper body down. She grabbed onto the edge of the counter, her round, gorgeous ass now pointed right at my cock. I didn’t waste anymore time in pulling her panties down, yanking so hard I nearly ripped the delicate fabric.
Cutting the distance between us, I put my fully engorged cock right at the creamy opening of her pussy, spreading her lips open and entering her just a little bit. Then, with a slow, deep thrust, I pushed inside. Chloe felt as smooth as velvet, easily taking in all of my inches, all of my thickness. Chloe shivered with delight as I drove deep, her legs shaking with the intensity.
When I was buried to the hilt, I held fast for a moment, savoring the feeling of her pussy wrapped around me. She was so tight, so warm, and so ripe that I could barely contain myself. Then I started pounding into her, but with enough restraint to know it would give her only pleasure and not pain, getting right down to the fucking that’d been on my mind since I first laid eyes on her.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned, her hair tossing wildly around her head as I shoved myself into her again and again. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Hadn’t planned on it,” I grunted, my hands gripped hard onto the soft flesh of her haunches.
I fucked her with wild abandon, keeping her pressed forward against the counter. My hands moved from her curvy hips up to her breasts, taking hold of them and feeling them shake and quiver with each plunge of my meaty cock into her pussy.
Soon, the urge to come was irresistible. I filled her up again and again, pounding her with every last millimeter of my cock. As I did, I felt my cum rise up from my balls, ready to fire deep into Chloe.
“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Don’t stop, please.”
“You ready for my cum?” I growled. “You ready for me to fill you up?”
“Oh god, yes,” she said, turning and looking at me as I fucked her.
I laid into her with a series of deep, full thrusts. In the middle of my onslaught, Chloe came—hard. “Yes, Chloe. Cum for me. Good girl.” I felt her pussy tighten around my girth. Squeals, moans, and screams shot out of her as she turned into a pliant mess of orgiastic flesh on the end of my cock. She was so fucking sexy.
I couldn’t take anymore. With one last penetration, I came. My cock exploded inside her, shooting rope after rope of thick cum deep into her pussy. I sounded out a deep, full grunt from the bottom of my lungs, the pleasure almost too much to bear.
Soon, both of our orgasms passed. I slowed my thrusts down, catching my breath. Taking my cock by the base, I pulled it out of Chloe, cum leaking from her beautiful pussy as I did.
With my last bit of strength, I wrapped my arm around her stomach and lifted her up, an excited squeal sounding out as I did. I plopped her on the couch, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her beautiful, flushed, just-fucked body splayed out in front of me. Then, I fell to her side and pulled her close.
“Good first date,” she said, looking at me with those killer green eyes of hers.
“Very good, I’d say.”
6
CHLOE
The sex was so goddamn good that I didn’t even mind that Ethan didn’t ask me to stay over. OK, maybe I minded a little bit. After the sex glow had faded, Ethan seemed a little distant, as though there was something on this mind that he didn’t know how to put into words.
So, when my eyelids had started to ge
t heavy and I knew that sleep was just around the corner, I slipped away from his warm, hard body and grabbed my things. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me wanted to hear him ask me back. But he didn’t say a word, either because he was fast asleep, or because he felt the same way about us spending the night together after such a sudden, passionate turn of events.
“So,” asked Katelyn, my fellow teacher and one of my best friends, as we sat in the teacher’s lounge before the day started. “How about that date with the fireman?”
She looked up at me from behind her big, red-rimmed glasses, her blonde hair a frizzy frame around her face, her eyes expectant.
“Did you say ‘fireman’?” asked Bethany, another one of my teacher friends. She sidled her curvy self into the free seat at the little round table. “You’d better have some details,” she said, a big smile on her round, pretty face.
I looked out the window at the leaves lolling in the wind in the green expanse of the schoolyard. I could see the kids, all loaded down with their big backpacks, file out of the busses and make their way to the front doors.
“Um, well, did you guys hear about that fire that broke out in the neighborhood?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Katelyn. “Over at that shoe shop?”
“That’s right,” I said. “Well, I just happened to be there when that all went down.”
“Are you serious?” asked Bethany. “With the fireman?”
“Yep,” I said, reaching into my bag and pulling out my tablet. “Let me show you.”
I pulled up YouTube and found the footage. The view count of the video was already really high—in the low hundred thousands. The title was “NYC hero firefighter makes daring rescue.”
“Check this out,” I said.
I tapped the play button and the video started. The three of us sat enthralled as we watched the phone footage of Ethan leaping from one fire escape to the other, the frightened girl held safely in his huge arms.
“Oh my god!” cried out Katelyn, attracting the attention of some of the nearby teachers. “That’s him?”
