Loading...It began with a fire in the upstairs Lingerie Department of my local Debenhams department store. Something in the adjacent restaurant had exploded in a ball a flame, and the first thing I knew was one of the attendants grabbing me by the arm and hauling me out of my cubicle.
To say the situation was inopportune would be a gross understatement.
At that moment I had been trying on a bright red Basque with accompanying black seamed-stockings and sharp stiletto heels, with a view to purchasing the entire set, when suddenly I was whisked out of my cubicle and into a concourse full of people.
I should say at the outset I don’t normally wear such clothing, and I was only buying those things as a special treat for my partner’s birthday. Like most men he was in to all that stuff and after much pressure I’d finally promised I’d get ‘something sexy’ for him … but even pulling them on in the privacy of the cubicle made me feel embarrassed and vaguely ashamed. As I’d examined my reflection in the full-length mirror I knew I looked sexy (I’m young and slim with long blond hair, and the Basque fitted me well), but I didn’t know if I could actually bring myself to wear such an outfit in front of any man.
I mean, for God’s sake, I looked like a tart with only one thing on her mind!
Indeed I was just telling myself this outfit was definitely not for me when I’d heard the loud booming noise. Then, without warning, an arm had reached in and unceremoniously dragged me out of my private chamber and into a crowd of people.
Well you can imagine my reaction – suddenly finding myself standing there exposed for all to see and dressed like a French whore (or that=s how it seemed to me). I was embarrassed, ashamed, and horrified, and I stood there ducking and cringing like a character out of a bawdy Carry-On film who’d suddenly had her dress torn off and didn’t know what to do. I spun round, screamed, and tried to cover my Basque and stockings with my suddenly tiny hands.
It was a nightmare. It was that dream where you’re naked and running away and everyone=s looking at you, and no matter how fast you run you don’t make any headway. You feel exposed, ashamed, mortified (and maybe just the vaguest bit turned-on), and you know everyone’s looking at you and leering at you, and you just want the ground to open up and swallow you!
But then, slowly (or at least it seemed slowly but it probably wasn’t) I began to see that everyone was running madly about and nobody was looking at me … well almost nobody.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see one young chap hanging back and staring at me with his mouth open and an odd look on his face. He seemed to be torn by two conflicting desires. I could tell from his expression he wanted to ogle me … he had than grinning leer men get when they see something that turns them on … but he also seemed to be wanting to follow the crowd and run away. He half-tripped and almost fell in his confusion, and I couldn’t help but grin at him. He half-grinned back at me, continued to stare for a moment, and then disappeared into the crowd.
It was about then I began to realise my situation was much worse than I’d thought.
I was assailed by an acrid smell, and I could see clouds of smoke beginning to billow out from a room at the far end of the aisle. The hubbub around me began to penetrate my brain, and I realised everyone was shouting something about ‘fire’ and urging each other to ‘run’.
Abruptly I understood what was happening. The store was on fire and I had to get out. But even as I began to move forward I knew I couldn’t just run outside dressed the way I was. I mean, alright it might save my life, but once the panic had subsided it wouldn’t take long for everyone to notice my attire, and the thought of all those men grinning and ogling at me (not to mention all those hands in the crowd that might suddenly find themselves pawing at my body) was enough to make me pause and seek for something to cover myself.
But there was a problem. I was in the Lingerie Department, and the brassieres and panties and suspender belts hanging nearby, didn’t seem to offer much in the way of cover. In fact, as I thought about it, I realised covering myself with even more lingerie was not a very clever idea! So I turned back towards the cubicle I’d been in … but that wasn’t a particularly bright thing to do either!
I=d only gone about four or five paces when there was another muffled bang, and smoke and flames erupted through the wall in front of me. As I stared in horror, I saw the curtains of the changing room cubicle ignite. I turned round again, back towards the exit, but then I saw to my dismay that everyone else had already left and I was alone. Suddenly my state of undress didn’t seem quite so important, and I rushed forward towards the exit. Even so, as I made it to what I thought was the exit door, I grabbed a nylon gown off one of the models and half-wrapped it around myself. Then I flung the door open and leapt through.
But it wasn’t the exit door at all.
Instead I seemed to be a long thin storage area, piled high on either side with boxes and clothing wrapped in cellophane, and ending in a window some ten yards in front of me. I spun round to go back out, but the aisle behind me was already filling with dense choking smoke. After only two steps I knew I’d never make it that way, so I retreated back inside the storage room and shut the door.
I remember standing there with a growing feeling of terror and dread as I realised I was trapped and there was no way out! I think I must have panicked for I have no clear recollection of what happened then. Everything went blank for a couple of minutes, and it was only sometime later I found myself by the back window. How I got there I don=t know, but as my brain began to work again I remember looking up and staring at the bars in front of the window.
For one awful moment I stared my own death in the face.
But I’m not the kind of person to give up without a fight. So I shook my head and told myself to calm down and think. Looking back towards the door I saw only tiny wisps of smoke drifting up from under the doorway and I realised the door was probably a fire-door. I had a little time before the inferno outside would penetrate. As I grasped the window-bars in my hands, I looked out through the dirty glass to the clean safe air only inches away.
Maybe I could break the glass?
Maybe somebody would hear me?
Maybe there was still time to get out?
The room was full of cardboard boxes and cellophane-wrapped clothing, and for one terrible moment I thought I there was nothing I could use to break the glass, but then in the corner I saw a long wooden pole with a metal hook on the end. I rushed over to it, grabbed it with both hands and ran at the window, thrusting it forward with all my strength towards the glass.
I was surprised at how easily it smashed through the glass. I must have thought it was toughened glass or something but it wasn’t, it was plain ordinary window glass. In fact I was so surprised I almost pushed the pole too far, and it nearly hurtled right out the room and on into the early evening sky. But fear helped me hold on and I just managed to pull it back. With my heart pounding wildly, I used the pole to break every inch of glass in the window frame. Finally I dropped it on the floor and pushed myself as tight up to the bars as I could get. Then I opened my mouth and screamed and screamed at the top of my voice.
I didn’t know it at the time but the Fire Station was only a couple of streets away from the store, and within minutes two engines were already arriving at the front of the building. Five minutes later there were four vehicles crawling with firemen at the front, and one round the back.
The window I’d broken (and was currently screaming out from) was on the second floor at the rear of the store. Luckily (or so it seemed at the time), the fire team at the back of the building saw me almost as soon as they arrived, and within moments a platform was being set up against the wall and a burly fireman in breathing gear was starting his ascent.
In the event the timing was critical, for even as the fireman reached through the window to attach some sort of cutting device to the bars, there was a creaking and hissing noise behind me and smoke began to poor into the room. It probably only took two minutes for him to cut away enough of the bars to get through to me, but it seemed a lifetime. By the time he was in the room I could hardly see him for the smoke and my head was getting starting to get fuzzy and dim.
“S’okay missy,” he shouted to me as he clambered through the window. “You’ll be ok now.”
It=s a curious thing but it was then, as he was effectively saving my life, that I had the first premonition of what was to come. I think it was the look on his face as he took in for the first time exactly how I was dressed. Somewhere along the line I=d dropped the nylon night-gown and I was standing there (swaying gently with the effects of the smoke) dressed only in that tight red Basque, brief red panties, black stockings and high-heeled shoes.
He lifted up his face-mask and looked me up and down, and the last thing I remember before I passed out was him saying, “Nice lady … very nice!”
II
I don=t know how long it was before I woke up, but when I did I knew immediately something was wrong. I was in the back of a dimly lit vehicle … a fire truck of some kind judging but all the equipment attached to the walls … but it was most defiantly not an ambulance. I was lying on a green blanket on some kind of metal bunk, still dressed as I had been when I was in the store, and two firemen were sitting opposite me apparently examining my body in minute detail.
“Where am I?” I whispered, my head still groggy from the smoke.
One of the firemen, the older of the two, raised his eyes from my legs and looked up at me.
“You’re safe …” he said softly, but with a strange undertone.
“But where am I?” I repeated trying to lift myself up to a sitting position, and suddenly noticing I was still dressed in all that disgusting lingerie. “Have you something I could wear …please?”
“No,” whispered the fireman. “Sorry…”
“What…?” I said in genuine surprise. “What do you mean … you must have something?”
But neither of the two men replied. Instead they just sat there staring at me … until I began to suspect what was happening.
Both of the men seemed to be genuine firemen, dressed as they were in their traditional firemen outfits of thick black coats and trousers, with a bright yellow line around the bottom and the middle of the jacket. They were also wearing heavy rubber boots and thick black gloves, and they still had their yellow fire-helmets on their heads, attached under the chin with a dark leather strap.
As I started at the older of the two men I could see dirt and grease marks on his face, and I suddenly realised he was the one who’d climbed in through the store window to rescue me. He was obviously a real fireman, so what was happening? Real firemen don’t abduct the woman they rescue … do they?
When I’d passed out he must have thrown me over his shoulder and carried me down the ladder. He would have had his hands around my legs. Maybe, I thought to myself, he’d felt my stockings and suspender straps. Maybe when he’d lain me down he’d touched my body? Maybe both of them had? Maybe they’d run their grimy hands up my stocking-covered legs, over my tummy and on to my breasts? Maybe their hands had lingered on my breasts for a while? Maybe they’d both knelt there feeling at my most intimate places, rubbing themselves against me and groping at my body? Maybe they’d got really turned on…
As I sat there staring at the two silent faces, half-hidden by their yellow helmets, I wasn’t sure if I should be terrified or excited. What were these men planning to do to me? Was I about to be raped by two muscular firemen in black leather uniforms? But what would they do then? Would they hurt me?
“I …” I started to say, but the older fireman raised his hand and interrupted me.
“Missy,” he said slowly, “We ain’t gonna harm you. We just…”
I looked hard at him. “Just … what?” I said.
“Just want a little reward … for saving your life. Just a little of your time, that’s all … you know, to say thanks.”
“What?” I said, in a tone that conveyed my total disbelief in what he was saying. “You want me to … to …” but I couldn’t think how to complete the sentence.
For a moment there was silence as none of us seemed to know what to say next.
Then the younger man looked up at me and I could see a fire smouldering in his dark eyes.
“We ain’t gonna hurt you Lady!” He said a harsh and unsympathetic voice. “We just wanna fuck you … that’s all!”
“No …” I whispered hoarsely, my mouth suddenly dry. “No! Let me out. Stop this van now and let me out!”
I started to get up but I was still groggy, and I half-slipped, half-fell from the bunk. The older fireman grabbed my arm as I fell and lifted me back on the bunk. He looked at me, sighed, and then grabbed my other arm, forcing me back and down.
“Sorry Missy,” he said, bending over me. “Now why don’t you just be a good girl and lie back and enjoy it.”
I looked up at him, still not quite believing what was happening to me. He had a warm friendly face, not the sort of face you imagine in somebody who was preparing to rape you. He even smiled at me, a vague but gentle smile. But then I felt the hands of the younger man grab my legs and pull them down and apart, and I knew this was no joke.
At that moment I felt the vehicle slow and pull to a stop, and a few seconds later the back door opened and a third fireman climbed in. He was young, much younger than the other two. A new recruit I guessed and he looked distinctly nervous.
“Is … is everything ok?” He asked in a croaky voice. “Is she…?”
“She’s fine,” said the rough-sounding middle fireman. “Now shut the fucking door and grab her feet!”
The very young fireman looked nervously at the old fireman holding my arms and gulped.
The old fireman, still with a half-grin on his face, just nodded and whispered calmly, “S’okay son, do as he says.”
As the young man grabbed my ankles the middle-fireman let go and seemed to reach down under the bunk. I watched in horror as he produced a number of leather straps and handed some to the grinning older fireman, who immediately began to wrap them around my wrists. I think the most disturbing thing was the practised way in which they began to bind me to the bunk. It was clear they knew what they were doing … and they’d probably done it before … maybe many times!
To my amazement, the older fireman tying my hands began to hum a tune to himself as he worked. My right wrist was attached to a bracing frame on the side wall of the vehicle, and then my left was attached through the side frame of the bunk. Both the straps were pulled tight and were very restrictive, but the older fireman was never brutal in his manner. He was strong and firm and he seemed to quench my struggles in a soft but powerful way that left me feeling entirely under his control.
The middle fireman tying my ankles, however, was much more aggressive, and he didn’t seem to care if he hurt me in the process or not. At one point I screamed as the leather bit into my leg. The older fireman looked back disapprovingly at his colleague, but the middle man never looked up and simply muttered, “Somebody gag her” and continued his work. The youngest one then leant over me and stuffed a greasy rag (that tasted of fire and soot) in my mouth.
When they’d finished all three of them sat back on the bunk on the other side of the van and admired their handicraft. I could tell by their looks that they were all turned on by what they could see, and their eyes like invisible hands caressed and probed at every part of my body.
“Shit!” said the rough middle fireman, “Ain’t she something!”
“Best yet!” said the young one.
“Shut up you fool!” said the old one.
“My God I love those stockings …” the middle fireman whispered, and both the others muttered in agreement.
“… and that Basque,” said the older fireman with a sigh. “Some lucky sod can have that whenever he wants. Jesus, it’s a cruel world … my missus couldn’t get one of her legs in that!”
All three laughed nervously and continued to stare openly and almost lovingly at my body.
“Small tits though,” said the young fireman.
“… but firm I bet,” said the middle fireman.
“… and pert,” added the older.
The middle fireman stood up and leant over me. With an evil lusty grin on his face he pulled down the straps of the Basque. Then he gently removed my breasts from the cups exposing them to the open air. He sat back down and all three of them stared fixedly at my chest.
“Nice …” whispered the older fireman, “very nice!”
“Yes, and she’s turned on too,” said the middle fireman. “Look …”
In horror I looked down and noticed my nipples were hard and sharp. I tried to say something through the rag in my mouth, to explain to them it was just the cold air, but all that came out was a muffled groan. They looked up at my face, all three of them, and grinned at me, and somehow I knew I’d just made it worse.
“She can’t wait!” said the middle fireman. “Dirty bitch …!”
I shook my head and mumbled again through the rag, but they just laughed.
“Patience Missy,” said the older fireman. “We’ll be with you in a minute.”
Then the older fireman stood up and unzipped the front of his black jacket revealing a bare chest. He moved up to where my head lay, lent over and kissed my forehead very softly.
“You’re a really beauty,” he whispered to me. “I’m so glad I managed to save your life. It would have been such a waste …”
He put his hand on my head and played with my hair for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. Then his hand slipped down to my cheek, over my neck, and came to rest on my left breast. He smiled at me again as his hand began to rhythmically caress my breast.
“Oh that’s nice Missy,” he breathed. “Oh yes … very very nice.”
Then his other hand crept up and grasped my other breast, and a look of wonder was in his eyes as he massaged both my tits firmly. As he played with me he leant forward until his crotch was resting against my hand tied to the bunk-side, and I could feel his harness through the thick leathery uniform. He seemed to be rubbing himself against my hand as he squeezed and moulded my breasts. He let out a sigh of pleasure and delight.
And then I felt a rough pair of hands on my legs and I knew the middle fireman was exploring my stockings. His hands slid up and down my thighs, occasionally squeezing tightly. I knew it was the middle fireman because his grip was always tight and crudely passionate. Unlike the older man he was taking his pleasure with no thought for me, and I knew when it came to it he would fuck me in a hard and brutal way.
As I moved my head I could see the young fireman still sitting on the bench. He was watching the other two intently, but he didn’t seem yet to have plucked up the courage to join them. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide and fascinated … and his hand was resting in his lap. As I watched he began to rub himself through his uniform. He didn’t see my glance as he was intensely watching the middle fireman rubbing and fondling my legs. I knew it was the stockings that were exciting them both and I cursed myself for ever trying them on.
Suddenly my attention was draw back to the older fireman by a slight burring noise. I watched in horror as he pulled down his zip fly and reached inside his trousers. Bending forward slightly he extracted his long hard cock from the uniform and let it spring up close to my face. I looked up at him in alarm, fearing the closeness of his thing to my face, but he was looking at my breasts and didn’t seem to notice. In my panic I tried to speak but all that came out was a muffled groan.
He looked up at me and smiled. “Wanna taste it do you missy?” he whispered.
I shook my head vigorously … the thought of him putting his cock in my mouth scared me, and I hoped he would notice and understand. I’ve never like the idea of oral sex and I wouldn’t do it even for my partner. How could he expect me let a total stranger do such a disgusting thing? But if he noticed he didn’t let on. He took hold of his penis and pushed it down towards my face, letting the head gently touch my lips. Then he rubbed it up and down my against my face and mouth, seeming to take great pleasure just from the contact.
“You like that Missy?” he murmured, still smiling. “Bet you can’t wait to get mouth around that, can you?”
I shook my head again and tried to turn my face away, but he lifted one of his hands from my breasts and pushed my head around till it was facing him. Then he lifted up the other hand and pulled the greasy rag from my jaws. Instantly I tried to scream, but before I could he’d firmly slipped his thing between my lips and full into my mouth. I choked and gagged in revulsion, but he just ignored me and began to slowly and rhythmically push my face down on to his penis.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse I felt fingers pulling at my panties. Looking down, over the top of the older fireman’s cock, I saw the middle fireman cutting away at the under-section of my pants. In an instant I was entirely exposed to him and he began to touch and finger me and probe at my most intimate places. With a shiver I felt him roughly insert two fingers inside me as far as his hand would allow. He said something I didn’t quite hear and removed his fingers. Then he slipped down the black leather trousers of his uniform and climbed on top of me. As he did so I noticed his cock sticking out straight and hard.
To my dismay it looked enormous.
Then roughly and without ceremony he forced his cock up between my legs and into my vagina. Even with the older fireman’s thing violating my mouth I still cried out in pain and surprise, but the middle fireman ignored me and began thrusting himself deep inside my cunt. His movements seemed urgent, in a hurry, and he was taking me brutally … like an animal.
I closed my eyes, but then I felt the older fireman’s hand upon my cheek. I looked up and realised he was trying to bring my attention back to him. He seemed concerned to get my mouth in the right position and my head moving to the proper rhythm.
He noticed me looking at him and whispered. “That’s nice Missy … look at me while you do it. Look me in the eyes … it’s much sexier that way!”
But I ignored him and closed my eyes again.
Inside my head was spinning. I was being fucked brutal and hard from below and I had this disgusting cock filling my mouth. My mind was filled with panic and terror, but at the same time I could feel my body starting to betray me. Each urgent thrust was violating my sanctity, but it was also starting a fire in me … forcing my juices to flow and my belly to warm and quiver. One part of me didn’t want it … was wishing I’d died in the fire … but another part of me didn’t seem to mind. That part wanted me to accept my fate … wanted him to continue … wanted him to fuck me as hard as he could.
‘What can you do?’ it whispered seductively to me. ‘It’s not your fault. These men are going to take their pleasure whatever you do or say … so take that smiling old fireman’s advice … lay back and enjoy it!’
I tried for a while to suppress the traitor in my body, to hang on to my feelings of being abused and violated, but it was no good. The sheer lustful passion of the middle fireman, the way he was taking me without any thought for my feelings or welfare, was … well I guess I have to say it … was turning me on. Without me wanting to, without even realising what I was doing, my body began to move to his fierce rhythm. As he thrust himself up and into me I began pushing my pelvis down, and lifting my bottom up to maximise the sensations … until I was pushing back against each of his thrusts. Indeed I was becoming so lost and confused by the feelings coursing through me, that for a long time I didn’t notice I’d started to suck greedily at the older fireman’s cock.
He did however, for when I eventually opened my eyes again I could see from the look on his face just how much pleasure he was taking from my actions. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open and his head was tilted back. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead he face had a look of awe and joy, and he was muttering to himself.
“Oh yes Missy … oh yes, that’s beautiful … so beautiful.”
By this time I was so betrayed by my body that I even began to wrap my tongue around his thing, tickling at it as I sucked. Even my ultimate terror that he might actually cum in my mouth was beginning to fade, and I found myself just taking every moment as it came.
Suddenly the middle fireman began to grunt and heave and I realised he was about to cum. He was crushing himself against me, the leather of his uniform rubbing against my breasts and his mouth chewing at my shoulder. Suddenly I was cursing my tied hands, not because I was restrained, but because I couldn’t grasp his bottom and force him up even deeper into my cunt. I wanted him to cum in me, but I also wanted to share it, to take it from him. Then with an enormous roar he went rigid and I could feel his fluid pumping up inside me. For a moment he froze, and then he thrust as deeply as he could into me. Two, three, four times he jolted forward, his thrusts so hard and so violent that each time he lifted me up several inches from the bunk.
His cumming was so earthy and animal-like I simply could not stop myself from responding, and my body shuddered and my knees pressed tight against him. As his last jolt thundered into me I rose up to meet it, and with an inward shout of joy my climax joined his and my head exploded in a shower of stars.
For a moment I was not sure if I bitten down on the older fireman’s cock or what, because he suddenly dragged it from my mouth. But then I realised he was cumming too, and with a deep grunt he ejaculated across my mouth and lips. Quickly I turned my head away and the last few jerks landed on my cheek. As he sat back with a sigh of genuine satisfaction I could feel his liquid running down my cheek and on to my neck. It was a disgusting sensation … and yet strangely erotic too.
As I lay there on the bunk in the sudden silence I wasn’t sure exactly how I was feeling. These men had raped and abused me, and I knew I should be thinking about how to escape, and once free how to ensure they would get their punishment for such a terrible crime … but I wasn’t. In fact I was thinking about the third, young fireman, and wondering if he was going to take his turn too!
I opened my eyes and peeked across to see what he was doing. The older fireman was sitting back and cleaning himself up with a tissue. The middle fireman was sitting on the bunk, head down, and panting, his limp cock still hanging out from the front of his black leather trousers. The young fireman was standing next to me, his hand still idly playing with himself. He was looking at my breasts, but he looked scared and uncertain, as if he didn’t quite have the courage to do to me what he obviously wanted to do.
Abruptly he looked up into my eyes. He didn’t smile. He almost seemed to be searching for reassurance or permission. As I looked up at him I knew I should be feeling anger or fear or something similar, but I wasn’t. Instead I was feeling horny, more horny than I think I ever felt before … and before I could stop myself I’d given the young fireman a reassuring (and lustful) grin.
His face relaxed and he grinned back. He looked young but also quite handsome. Slowly he unzipped the front of his black uniform to reveal a strong muscular chest. Then he opened his fly and extracted his hard cock from the front of the black trousers.
“You want it?” he whispered, still a touch nervously.
As he licked his lips I half nodded at him.
At that moment I felt the older fireman’s hand on my cheek, and I realised he was using a tissue to wipe my face clean of his cum. I looked across at him and I could see he’d noticed my reaction to the young fireman. He was smiling at me.
“There,” he said, dabbing his tissue across my neck. “Now you’re ready!”
He watched intently as the young fireman climbed up and on to my body until his face was level with mine. The young fireman felt unexpectedly heavy upon me, and yet his black uniform felt cool and sensuous against my skin. Slowly his hands reached up and grasped both my breasts and he squeezed hard.
The young fireman’s face was inches from mine and as our eyes embraced tightly I knew I wanted him. Despite all they had done to me, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I could not stop myself from hissing ‘fuck me you bastard!’ at him. ‘Fuck me hard … as hard as you can!!”
Perhaps not surprisingly he didn’t need a second invitation. His hand slipped down to his cock and after a moment’s fumbling he inserted it into my wet cunt. Unlike the middle fireman he started slow, and I could tell he was trying to consider my feelings by making it a more ‘romantic’ act. But that wasn’t what this experience was about … and it was not what I wanted right then.
“Fuck me you shitbag!” I hissed in his ear. “Rape the fucking bitch … do it you bastard! Hard! Hard as you can!”
Eventually he got the message, and as I lay there strapped to the bed, defenceless before these men, totally at their mercy, I did as the old fireman had suggested and lay back and enjoyed it to the full. As my passion flared again, with the pounding and heaving and panting of the young fireman, I struggled against the straps until they bit into my arms and legs. But the pain was erotic, it heightened my senses. I was being raped … I was an innocent young woman being used by big muscular firemen … I was struggling for my life … and I was loving every fucking second of it!
Again I wished my arms and legs were free. I wanted to feel at the black leather uniform that was scuffing against my chest and stomach, I wanted to clutch as the young fireman’s bottom, and rub it and squeeze it, and force him further and further up inside me. Then suddenly, almost without warning, he lurched up with a cry and I felt him ejecting himself inside. As he did so he crushed my breasts in his hands till I thought he was going to tear them off and he pushed himself into me as far as he could go.
But I wasn’t ready and I actually felt disappointment as he dropped himself down on my body. After a moment he retreated backwards and slipped out and off me. He sat back on the bench next to the middle fireman.
I lay there for a while mulling over my feelings and wondering what would happen next. Then I looked up at the three men sitting there adjusting their uniforms back to there proper appearance.
It was over and I should have been relieved. I should have lain there quietly. Instead I did something really silly … I said what I was thinking.
“Is that it then?” I said. “Is that all …?”
The older fireman stared hard at me, and then his face broke into its old grin.
“Maybe one more round … and then we’ll get you home,” he said. “Is that OK?”
Despite an intense inner struggle I could not stop my head from nodding imperceptibly at him.
There was a sharp buzzing noise as the middle ‘animal’ fireman unzipped his fly and once again pulled out his enormous cock. I looked down at his cock and then back up to the fire burning once again in his eyes.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. “Go for it Big Boy!”