The Firefighter's Woman (11 page)

“No,” she said in breathy tones. Her lower muscles were tense. Every part of her wanted to move toward his hand, but she couldn’t very well grind herself against John’s fingers in the middle of a crowded… “Oh!” She let out a little gasp as he made it easier and cupped her pussy. “John,” she moaned.

His smile grew a little broader, and much more inviting. “Let’s say we skip dessert,” he suggested, tapping her pussy lightly through her panties. “I think we’re both done with playing pretend.” He leaned in and murmured soft words into her ear as he massaged her pussy. “This might not be romantic, but I want to be inside you.”

Sarah had no argument for him. John paid the bill and they left the restaurant hand in hand. The moment they stepped outside, John took his jacket off and slung it over his shoulder. Sarah did the same, but with her heels. Their joined sighs of relief made both of them laugh.

“This was Anne’s idea, wasn’t it?” Sarah grinned up at him.

“How did you guess?”

“Because I could imagine her at a place like that, but not you. Did she tell you to wine and dine me?”

“Something like that,” he admitted.

She let out a squeal as he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the truck to save her feet from getting dirty. Sarah loved his strength. She nuzzled against his neck, enjoying every step of the journey to the vehicle.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere I think you’ll like a lot better than that restaurant,” he said, settling her into the passenger seat.

Somewhere turned out to be their local fire precinct. It wasn’t quite as large as the main city fire department, and it backed onto a small wooded area, which was sort of romantic. The building was quiet and most of the lights were out, except a few at the top story.

“The fire station? Why are we here?”

“You have to keep it down,” he murmured. “They’ll be asleep. Come on.”

John scooped Sarah up out of the passenger seat and carried her around the back of the main building to an older structure, like a small air hangar. He juggled her for a second as he fiddled with the lock and then pushed open the door to reveal an old firetruck, half covered by tarps, but clearly carefully cared for. The chrome shone in the moonlight that was visible through missing panels in the ceiling, but it was something out of the 1950s. It reminded her of John in some way, old-fashioned but powerful.

“What is this, a museum?”

“We keep her around for sentiment more than anything,” he said. “This truck saved hundreds of lives, maybe thousands. You don’t scrap a workhorse like this.”

John opened the door of the firetruck and helped Sarah to sit up on the edge of the seat, her legs dangling out of the doorway. Once she was settled, he reached into the foot well and pulled out a couple of bottles of beer.

“Do all fire engines have a beer stash?”

“I put a couple in here… in case we came this way…”

“You planned to bring me here all along?” She smiled. “Now that’s romantic. Far more romantic than that restaurant.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He cracked both beers and gave one to her. “This is a lot more private, and it means something to me.”

“I can see that,” Sarah nodded, sipping her beer. It was quiet there, in the old building with the old truck and with John standing on the lower step, his height making it so her legs were loosely spread around his thighs as he leaned against the pillar of the door and smiled his handsome smile.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “about yesterday. I didn’t even really go out. I didn’t drink at all. I just took an Uber into town and sat in an internet café for a couple of hours.”

One of his thick brows rose at her. “Really? Why?”

She picked nervously at the beer bottle. “I guess I wanted to be in trouble. I guess, when I’m in trouble, I know you care.”

“I will always care about you, Sarah,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “Always.”

She kissed him back, tasting salt and beer. Words evaporated again, as they so often did whenever their bodies were close. John’s lips and tongue told her all she needed to know, his hands caressing her body with a loving reverence that carried more than mere desire.

The arousal he’d sparked at the restaurant had been on a slow burn since they’d left, but now it ignited fresh and hot. Sarah reached between them and ran her hand up and down the hard shaft of his cock, encased in his formal wear.

She felt and heard him growl into her mouth and then he returned the favor, spreading her legs wider and pulling her closer. She felt his cock bump against her panty-clad pussy as she ground against him, her tongue hungrily lapping against his as they kissed passionately.

John laid her down on the long leather seat, his mouth over hers to keep her moans at a minimum as his hands roamed her body. There wasn’t a lot of room in the truck, so John stood on the step in the doorway, parting her legs around his torso. As she writhed he pulled her further back toward him, crotch to crotch. Her dress rode up around her waist as he cupped her pussy, teasing her mound with a slow massage that made her moan and arch her hips. She wanted him so badly she soon soaked the gusset of her panties. They clung to her lips as he slowly lifted the fabric from her slit and pushed it to the side, allowing the head of his cock, freshly freed from his pants, to brush against her pouting wet lips.

“Shhh,” he cautioned her again as he began to press himself inside her.

“Mngghh!” She couldn’t help her responses. They felt as though they were being pulled from her by the slow insertion of his hardness. With little foreplay, she was still quite tight down there, her wetness helping but not entirely making his passage easy. He seemed to be enjoying slowly make her open with gentle surges of his hips. When she kept moaning, he pulled his cock out of her entirely and tapped her pussy with his palm.

She let out a loud squeal. “John!”

“I told you to be quiet,” he frowned, his hands going to the buckle of his belt. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she watched him unloop the leather from his waist and recoil it around his hand, leaving a few inches free for his intended purpose, which soon became clear as he traced the tip of the belt over her mound then tapped it lightly, spanking her lips and clit and the soft little mound with sharp taps that made her squirm back and forth. “Can you be quiet, Sarah?”

She let out a yelp as the tip of the belt kissed just above her clit. “I’m trying!” She gasped the words as he kept spanking her pussy lightly with the leather, making her lower lips swell and sting. It felt sore, but good. All she really wanted was his cock back. She needed it inside her. She would have taken several dozen strokes of the belt to her naughty pussy if that was what it took to have him sink his long, thick manhood back into her pussy.

After twelve or so sharp slaps of the belt across her lower lips, John pressed the leather of his belt between her teeth. “Bite down,” he ordered softly. “You’re being far too noisy, naughty girl.”

Sarah tasted the leather against her tongue as she obeyed, her teeth sinking into the material.

With her mouth suitably occupied, John pushed back inside her with one long stroke. Her moan of pleasure was muffled by the belt as he began to fuck her harder, his hands cupping her cheeks to pull her onto his cock. Now that she was quiet, she could hear the wet sounds of his cock in her pussy, the slapping of her cheeks against his hips as he thrust hard and fast. There was the real possibility that they could be caught, a fact that excited her and seemed to make John determined to fuck her thoroughly and quickly.

Her pussy lips, hot from the belt, gripped his cock tightly and the bud of her clit was hard as rock. John reached down and tapped above it with a swift spanking motion that sent aftershocks through the cluster of nerves and sent Sarah rocketing into climax. She began to wail, forcing John to clamp his hand over her mouth as he too came, his cock locked inside her wet channel, filling her bare pussy to the brim once more with his seed.

A sound outside made them both freeze in the aftermath of their climax. They stared at one another, cum slowly dripping out of Sarah’s pussy and onto the old leather of the seat beneath. John pulled out, but his cock was still erect, pointing at her pouting pussy lips.

After a moment they realized it must have been nothing more than a roaming animal, but they still quickly cleaned themselves up as much as possible. Sarah was half jealous of the way John could make himself respectable simply by doing his fly up. She was still dripping with his cum and she was sure there was a wet spot on her dress and only God knew where her panties had gone.

“What are we doing, John?” She giggled the question at him.

“Falling in love,” he said, his eyes softening. “At least, I am.”

Sarah bit her lower lip, surprised by his revelation. “Really? I mean… even… given… I’m not the easiest person to love, John.”

“Love isn’t about easy,” he said, his hand running down her back to settle on the curve of her bottom. “Love is about finding someone who matches you.” His lips descended on her neck, kissing gently as he spoke sweet words. “Someone who excites you, someone who you understand enough to feel comfortable with, but different enough to keep you on your toes. For me, that’s you, Sarah.”

She pulled back so she could look into his face. “That’s you for me too,” she said, her eyes filling with tears as they had so many times before—but this time they were not tears of sadness. This time they were tears of pure joy.

“I love you, Sarah,” he growled softly.

“I love you too,” she said in a soft whimper drawn from the very depths of her heart.

Chapter Thirteen

“So we have a deal,” John said the next morning after breakfast. They were snuggling on the couch together, watching the news with mild, idle interest. “You don’t act out like a teenager, I don’t send you to Mrs. Derringer’s house.”

“Deal,” Sarah said, taking his extended hand and shaking it. “And no more spankings either.”

“I wouldn’t agree to that even if you really wanted it, which you don’t,” John said. “You’re never wetter than when your ass is red and sore.”

“Hey,” Sarah blushed. “That’s not true.”

“I disagree,” John said. “And I’m prepared to test the theory.”

He turned her over his lap and slid his fingers over her cheeks and between her thighs, spreading them so her lips were visible.

“Not terribly wet right now,” he noted.

“John!” Sarah let out a little whimper of complaint.

His palm caught her cheeks over and over again, heating them with slaps not nearly hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make sting run rampant over the lower reaches of her most sensitive regions.

“Do you want me to stop, Sarah?”

She wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to form the word. He was using the sensation he was creating with the slapping sting and turning it to a heat that flowed through her body, sparked some carnal reaction in the nerves of her clit, and made the muscles in her stomach, thighs, and everywhere between clench with excitement.

John pushed one of her legs off his lap and put his other leg over it, spreading her thighs in such a way that she was off balance with nowhere to press her clit. Sarah whined again, but all it earned her was another slap to her bottom, harder still this time.

He gave her another dozen firm slaps, then his fingers once more found her soft lower lips and spread them gently. “I’m seeing some signs of dampness, Sarah. Are you sure spankings don’t make you wet?”

Her response was deliberately incoherent and turned to a moan as his fingers dipped lower and circled tenderly around the hard little bud of her clit.

“I think they make you wetter than anything else,” he drawled as his fingers slid back over her lips and then returned to her bottom, light traces of her own wetness passing over her cheeks as he started to spank her again, hard and firm. If he’d spanked her that way from the beginning she would have yowled in pain, but thanks to the arousal coursing through her blood the pain was something else. Pure sensation and a pleasure that danced along the rising tide, which became more intense with every subsequent slap.

She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care that she wasn’t supposed to like being spanked. She didn’t care that he was paddling her bottom hard and fast and that the heat and the sting were reaching a crescendo that would not allow her to sit comfortably for some time. All she cared about was the way her inner walls throbbed, how her pussy was streaming with need, how her hips were dancing with desire in an attempt to rub herself against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Get up.”

The order surprised her. She stayed where she was, wriggling in place.

“Up, Sarah.” He slapped her bottom hard.

She yelped and scrambled up off his lap, only to be caught by the back of the neck once she stood upright. John marched her around the couch, released his grip, and pointed to the soft round of leather.

“Bend over.”

She had to put herself into position, present her bottom for his use. Any thought of resistance was erased by his expression, which was one of stern lust. John might have been playing at first, but he was not now.

Sarah obeyed, slowly bending over the couch until her palms were on the warm leather that John had recently vacated. Her bottom was high in the air, her skin feeling tight and hot. There was a sound of a zipper being lowered and a moment later, John plunged deep inside her, his cock parting the tender wet walls of her cunt, which were so slick with desire that he pressed all the way in on the first stroke, taking her completely. She let out a gasp and clutched at the cushions on the couch as he pounded her with hard, fast strokes that dominated her completely.

“I’m never going to stop spanking you, Sarah,” he growled as he fucked her. “I’m never going to stop letting you know how naughty you are, how fuckable you are, how much your ass begs to be punished. This is what you were made for, and I’m going to use you as intended.”

At any other time his words might have seemed cold, but in that moment, with the heat of his cock sluicing through her wetness, Sarah responded to his dominating words with a fresh rush of arousal. She was utterly at his disposal. Every part of her thrilled to him, to his love, his discipline, his pure animal desire.