With the engines gone, it was easy to move about freely through the rustic firehouse on Fifth and Reginald. Composed of brick, the building kept much of its very character it acquired from the 1800s when it was built. Love and skillful hands went into the brickwork and intricacies of the building's composition. It even had it's original pole that disappeared into a second floor, a loft perhaps, but I couldn't quite tell which. With a bit of curiosity driving me, however, I meandered through the open lot where the two main engines were parked regularly, and headed quietly up the stairs.
I have always wanted to see what this place looked like inside, but never had the courage to ask a fireman for a tour. So here I am, the sirens still fresh in the background, moving east and away from the station, and I'm climbing stairs. I wonder how many people have worked here through the years, how many lives lost in fighting battles for other people's possessions. It takes a true person to save other people's shit from destruction.
As I reached the second floor, my eyes wandered the open space. Couches, a pool table, a television — flat screen and propped on the wall, a table with chairs and a small kitchenette. To me, it was just like they show in the movies. I paused, listening, and there were still no sounds. I grew confident in believing I was alone, and meandered towards the pole.
Peering down onto the floor below, I grinned to myself. How can one not wonder what it's like to get that call, adrenaline rushing, sliding with the squealing of skin on metal as they rush to a truck, donning equipment? I wondered how many burly hands, how many strong fingers gripped this and stroked all the way til their feet hit the floor. With a grin, I wrapped my fingers about the cool metal and pressed myself against it, letting out a soft exhale as I did. In my mind's eye, the vision of a strong body swirls down to ground, and I couldn't help but find myself growing aroused.
Again, I paused, listening. I looked around the second story from where I stood, listened for footsteps or voices from the floor below, and I still remained confident I was alone, in this large building, with my imagination. So what did I decide to do next, you may wonder? Enough to get me arrested for sure!
I held to the pole and slid to a sitting position, keeping my legs from dangling through the hatch, afraid someone below would see me if they came in to the station. It was a good thing I decided to wear a summer dress that day, for it made what I was about to do next much easier, much more exciting. Already I could feel the dampness growing between my thighs, the heat building in my core as I drew fingers along the pole, then up from my knees to the insides of my legs. With a catch of breath, deft fingertips found a swelling bud through the fabric, teasing it gingerly.
Who knew the smells and created images in my brain would turn me on so much?
I hooked one leg around the cold metal, gasping at the contrast of hot skin against the cool pole. A grin creased my lips as my eyes fluttered shut. Tugging aside the scant cloth of my panties, my fingers found my clit, circling it, teasing it, drawing out more arousal as I could certainly feel how wet I had become. At first it began slowly, but the fact was, I was in a public building, doing naughty things where anyone could find me. And with that thought, two fingers parted swollen lips and penetrated as deep into my cunt as I could possibly press, devouring the digit far past the knuckles and holding tight at the base. A small squeal escaped parted lips as my breaths increased, my breasts rising and falling as I worked those trained hands on my body. I pulled myself closer to the pole, my ass just hanging slightly over the opening that led to below, and pressed my hands into the metal, grinding this feverish pussy with fervor.
It didn't take long for my world to turn white. Lost in a flurry of thought, I cried out, muffled by pursed lips as my breath drew out in long, heated exhales. I threw my head back, eyes closed as I stared into oblivion behind the darkness of my eyelids. The juices from my pussy coated those fingers, slickening them with the heat of the moment.
Grinning, I caught my breath and still with my head held back, I opened my eyes.
