Dad's Fireman Friend

by Flora Ferrari

  I dress deliberately in the shortest skirt that I own, a little white number that brushes mid-thigh with schoolgirl pleats. I wouldn’t normally dress this way to try and – what? Seduce someone? – but I want to make it clear how I feel.

  How the thought of Dom’s arms around me makes me want to melt.

  I want his attention, all day long. I know I won’t get any trouble from Jordan, or anyone else, with Dom watching over me. It’s odd to say it, but I even feel safe to dress like this for him in public – something I’ve never even been tempted to do before. I used to wear this skirt over black leggings so no one could see anything. Now I’m wearing it even without anything.

  I have a plan to get him on his own. I just hope I haven’t read everything wrong. Once it’s just the two of us, it’s down to him to show me he wants me and make the first move. I don’t think I would dare to do it myself.

  I enter the station with a thrill of nerves, glancing around quickly to see if Dom is around. He must be in the break room, or maybe out on a call, because one of the engines is missing from its usual spot. I quell the feeling of panic – he’ll be around eventually. He always comes to check that I’m alright.

  I sit at my desk and start typing, tugging at the hem of my skirt to make sure it covers everything while I’m waiting for Dom to appear. The last thing I want to do is give everyone else an eyeful by accident.

  I don’t know if I made the right choice. I feel so nervous, every minute that I sit here. Will everyone think that I’m easy? That I just dress like this all of the time? Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should make an excuse and go home to change…

  “Hey.”

  I almost jump out of my chair. In all my panic, I didn’t even realize that Dom was coming over to me. I look up at him in shock, and only just manage to rearrange my face to look somewhat normal. “Hi,” I say, my voice weak and high-pitched. I clear my throat. “How’s it going?”

  Dom leans a lazy arm over the back of my chair, bending down to my level. “Not bad. First team is out. We’re third team today, so might not get a call.”

  “You’ve got lots of free time, then?” I ask, trying to sound casual. Of course, I knew that his crew was last on the roster today. They’ll only go out if there are another two fire emergencies before the first one can be dealt with. This was all part of my plan. My heart is beating so fast and loud inside my chest that I think he must be able to hear it.

  “Sure,” Dom shrugs. “Just sitting around, mostly. Not that I want there to be a fire, obviously.”

  “Maybe you could show me some things, while you’re bored?” I suggest quickly, glancing around. “I had the basic tour, but I'd like to learn more.”

  “Sure,” Dom says, straightening up and offering me his hand. “What do you want to see?”

  I glance around, feigning indecision. “Um… what about the rescue operations logistic truck? I want to see what it’s like on the inside.” I grab hold of his hand to get up and feel the heat between us. It shoots through my body like electric sparks. I’m disappointed when he lets go as soon as I’m on my feet.

  “Follow me,” he says, doing an impression of a waiter at a fancy restaurant with a half-bow as he leads me across to the vehicle.

  I chose it carefully. Truth be told, I’ve already seen the inside. My direct supervisor, Amy, gave me a tour of all of the vehicles in depth so that I would understand some of the terminology on the forms I’ve got to type up and check. The truck in question is parked right at the back of the station, with its doors opening on the back wall. Inside is the largest space of any of the vehicles – just enough room for two people to stand in it together and walk right in to the front, where the lights of the station won’t penetrate the stacks of equipment.

  The most private space in the whole of the station.

  “Here we are,” Dom says, leading me to the back of the truck. “Let me get the steps down so you can climb up.”

  “No need,” I tell him breezily. I hook my foot up onto the tailgate, hold onto it with my hands, and push myself up. I know he gets a full flash of my panties when I do it – and I’ve chosen lacy ones just for the occasion. It sends a thrill down my spine. I’ve never done anything like this before. No one has ever seen what’s under those panties.

  Dom makes a choked sound in his throat, and I turn to look back down at him. “Need a hand up?” I ask.

  Dom bobs his head to the side. “I’ve got it,” he says, in a slightly strained voice. As he climbs up, I notice him discreetly trying to rearrange his cock, and I have to turn away to hide the gleeful smile that lights up my face.

  “Alright,” he says, seeming to catch his breath. “These here are the buckets. As you can see, we’ve got a lot of them. That’s just in case we need to form a line and pass them down, maybe get members of the community involved in helping out. We don’t want to be caught short on a big callout.”

  “What are those, over there?” I ask, pointing right down into the gloom of the truck.

  Dom clears his throat. “Let’s go take a look,” he suggests, gesturing for me to lead the way.

  Everything is going just how I hoped. I have to refrain from doing a skip as I move through the crowded interior towards the far end. I step carefully, one foot right in front of the other, to give him some extra wiggle while I’m at it.

  My heart is thrumming inside my chest. This is it. Me and Dom Tempest – not something I ever expected to want. But I want it so bad, I can’t stop my hands from shaking as I reach the back wall and pretend to bend over for a closer look.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dom

  A strangled groan escapes my throat as she bends over again, pushing that perfect ass up into the air. The hem of her skirt skims up to right under the line of her panties, which I was treated to a full show of just a moment ago.

  She can’t be that naïve, right? This is all a come-on.

  And I’m more than willing to answer that call.

  I move after her like a panther, smooth grace and hunger. It’s hard to believe this gorgeous, curvy bodied twenty-two-year-old is interested in her father's forty-year-old best friend, but here we are. I’m not imagining the signals she is sending me. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to resist.

  When I catch up to her, she turns and straightens up, in what can’t be coincidental timing. She stands so close to me I can feel rather than see the way her chest heaves up and down with every breath. Her head is tilted up towards mine, an invitation that I immediately take.

  Our lips meet in a crash, hunger and desire pouring out through hot flesh. Her lips are sweet and plump. I’m thankful that she skipped the lipstick today. Not only will there be no mark of this on me, but I get to taste her fully. I slip my hand around the side of her jaw to hold her in place and feel her moan gently into my mouth.

  She is everything I imagined and more. Pliable and soft against my mouth and hands, melting into me. I can no longer doubt that she might want me just as much as I want her. Her body is showing me, from the way she presses urgently against me to the way her lips part easily when I push my tongue inside.

  We might not have long. Not before someone comes looking for me, or for her, and finds us missing. Or maybe they want to fetch something from the truck and get more than they bargained for. Either way, as much as I want to savor every moment of this, I also know that I want to be inside her. My hands slide down to her breasts, cupping both of them at the same time, stepping back so that there is space between us for my hands to move and squeeze. Brit moans into my mouth again, a vibration running through my jaw and down my neck that sends a signal right to my stiffening cock.

  I can feel the rigid outline of her bra, stiff fabric and underwire. In the way. I want it gone. I grasp her shirt and work my way swiftly down the buttons. Brit doesn’t stop me. Her hands rest on my hips, pulling me towards her but staying out of the way of my ministrations, impeding nothing. Now when my hands glide over her breasts it’s not just lac
e and cotton and wire I can feel, but the heated skin around it.

  I dip my head away from hers for a moment to catch her eyes, and raise an eyebrow in question as my fingers tease the edge of her bra. She nods once, breathlessly, enough to let me know I can go on. I catch her mouth with mine again, then run hot kisses down the side of her jaw and neck as my fingers push the offending fabric up and out of the way.

  My hands work her exposed breasts, circling her nipples as they pebble in the cool air, eliciting more gasps and quiet moans. I sink to one knee, half-standing, just the right height to put my tongue to work licking and sucking everywhere that my hands are not. I feel her catch her breath and look up, fixing my eyes on hers as my left hand slides up her thigh, underneath her skirt.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Brittany

  Could this be it? Will I finally go all the way?

  Dom’s hands and tongue on my breasts feel amazing, nothing close to what I could have imagined. The combination of his hot breath and the cold air, tracing and tweaking, is not at all similar to the way it feels when I touch my own nipples. This is so much more – so much better.

  He breaks off suddenly, and I want to whine with disappointment. I look down and see a devilish expression on his face as one of his hands starts to slide up my thigh, higher and higher, inside the fabric of my skirt. A shiver of need runs through me. Yes, this is right – this is what I want, more than anything.

  My whole body jerks in surprise, dislodging Dom’s hand and almost knocking him over, when the sound of my phone peals out in the small space.

  “Oh, no!” I mutter, fumbling for the pile of folded hoses where I set my phone down only a moment before. I have to shut it off – quickly – before someone hears us! I manage to grab hold of it and lift the screen, only to see –

  My Dad is calling.

  I automatically hit the button on the side to turn off the sound, but what am I supposed to do? I can’t ignore the call. I’m supposed to be sitting at my desk, where I would be able to answer the call with no problem at all. What excuse could I possibly come up with?

  While I’m worrying about it, the call shuts off, the screen going dark.

  “What was that?” Dom asks.

  I bite my lip, fully aware that what I am about to say might spoil the mood. I feel exposed all of a sudden, my breasts fully visible in the chilly air, my shirt unbuttoned all the way. “It was my Dad,” I say. “He ended the call. But -”

  And before I can warn Dom that he’s likely to call back until he gets hold of me, the screen lights up again. And this time it’s even worse.

  It’s a video call.

  “Oh, god,” Dom says. He has stood up to look down at the phone with me, and in the glare from the screen, his face looks white. He lunges forward into action before I can even gather my thoughts – probably because he’s used to dealing with panicked situations – and yanks my bra back down over my breasts.

  I start on the top buttons of my shirt while he works from the bottom, and I have just enough time to run a hand down over my head to correct any mussing before hitting the accept button on the call.

  “Hey, Dad!” I say, giving him my best innocent nothing-to-see-here smile. “I’m just taking a tour of the rescue operations logistics truck.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I can see that he’s sitting at home, propped up on the sofa, where he has been most days. “I got a little worried when you didn’t answer. Sorry, Cupcake. Just being overprotective dad over here.”

  “No, don’t worry. I’m back here with…” I catch sight of Dom shaking his head wildly. “One of the girls. I wanted to know how everything works. I should be going back to my desk soon.”

  “Don’t let me keep you,” Dad says hurriedly. “Sorry again – for getting a little paranoid. Guess I’m going stir crazy here, not being able to work.”

  “Just over four weeks,” I remind him. “Then you’ll be back and complaining you never have any free time.”

  Dad laughs. “You’re right. Okay. See you when you get home.”

  “Love you,” I murmur quickly, before the video shuts off.

  I take a shaky breath. Dad’s disapproval of me getting together with Dom seems almost like a foregone conclusion, and he seems to have a knack of knowing just when the two of us are getting close to really lay the guilt on thick.

  “That was, uh,” Dom starts. In the darkness of the truck, I can only just make out the outlines of his face, my vision still adjusting from the bright lights of the video.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’m… sorry.”

  “Sorry about the call?” Dom asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Because I’m not sorry about the rest,” he says. One of his arms circles my waist, drawing me in closer to where he sits, perched on a stack of equipment.

  “Me either,” I say, glad that it’s dark enough that he won’t be able to see how heavily I’m blushing.

  “Maybe we should get a little more privacy, next time,” Dom suggests, and my heart leaps in my chest – then plummets down to between my legs – at the thought of there being a next time. “You should come to my place.”

  “When?” I ask, breathlessly hoping that he will say tonight.

  He smiles, catching a strand of my hair and twirling it around his finger. My eyes are adjusting to the light again, and I can see the flash in his eyes. “Saturday. It’s my next day off, and I know you’re not working either.”

  I almost sag against him in disappointment. “But that’s four days away.”

  “This will have to last you until then,” he says, catching hold of the side of my face to draw me down for a deep kiss. I don’t want him to stop, but he pulls away.

  I can’t catch my breath to give him any kind of witty reply. I can’t make my brain work, even if I wanted to. I feel like I’m made up of stars, all spinning around inside my head.

  “And no more short skirts,” Dom says, grinning. His hand slips unexpectedly down, lifts the skirt out of the way, and squeezes my ass firmly. “You’re going to drive me wild.”

  “That was the idea,” I manage breathlessly.

  He laughs and gets up, planting one last kiss on the side of my mouth. “Until Saturday.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Dom

  Saturday evening couldn’t come quick enough. Now that it has, I can’t wait any longer.

  Apparently, Brit feels the same, because my doorbell rings a full fifteen minutes before she is due to arrive. I swear and switch the burners on the stove down to the low, then rush over to greet her.

  I almost have a heart attack right there at the door. My eyes drink in every inch of her, from the ground up, slinky little high heels, barely more than a couple of straps, turn her calves into a work of art. Those legs vanish up into a very tight, very short dress which hugs every curve of her body – over her hips, in at her waist, and up to her chest, where the round neckline skims across the top of what should be her bra – but isn’t, which I know because I can see her nipples poking through the fabric. Her blonde hair falls in effortless curls over her shoulders and down her back, and her lips are slicked with a wet-effect lip gloss.

  At the mere sight of her, a twitch runs through my cock, waking it up and threatening to burst through my pants.

  “Hi,” she says, with an impish smile.

  “Wow,” I say, which is the only appropriate reaction I can think of.

  She squirms a little, obviously not used to this kind of attention. In one hand she brandishes a coat, which must be how she managed to sneak out dressed like this in the first place. “I could say the same,” she says, gesturing to me. I picked out a tight shirt for the occasion as well as my favorite pair of jeans, low-slung at the hip, and positioned just right so that if I happen to have to reach for something on the top shelf she’ll get a glimpse of my happy trail.

  “Come in,” I say, stepping aside so that she can walk past me. As she does, I turn and get a good look at her ass, only just fully covere
d by the stretchy black fabric. Not only does she look hot as sin in that outfit, but it’s also straight out of the nineties – and I wonder if she knows that and chose something from when I was a younger man, or if it’s just the style these days.

  I reach down and adjust my cock quickly, trying to hide just how hard it’s getting already at the thought of peeling her out of that dress later, and close the door behind her. There’s enough time for that later. First, I want to make sure that she feels appreciated. I’m doing this right – a proper first date.

  “I hope you like chicken,” I tell her. My idea of a joke, albeit a nervous one. I know she likes chicken – Cyrus’ cooking skills were limited when his wife left him, and there wasn’t much else he could prepare for her. She loved it, because he made it.

  Of course, that was then. Maybe she’s sick of chicken now because he made her eat it so much. Or maybe she went vegan in college.

  “Who doesn’t?” she asks, setting my mind at ease. As we move into the kitchen, she closes her eyes and breathes in appreciatively. “Mmm. What is it?”

  “I told you,” I say, slipping a hand around her waist as I get past her and then let her go. “Chicken.”

  Her eyes fly open, and she smacks me lightly on the arm. “I meant what type.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think it was free range.”

  Brit groans. “You’re impossible.”

  “I know.” I check the pot, then turn to plant a kiss on her brow. “Go through and sit down at the table. I'll serve it up in a moment.”

  She nods and smiles, a little breathless, a little nervous. I can see that she’s just as excited about this as I am.

  I finish the cooking quickly and dish up, not wanting to wait a moment longer to be with her. Tonight is everything. It’s not just about getting a quick fuck. I want to make Brittany mine – permanently. Me taking her will just be the icing on the cake. I’m going to wine and dine her like no college boy ever could.