How to tease a fireman

The doorbell rang. I had totally forgot some guy was coming to check the fire extinguishers in the building. I had volunteered to let him in, so he rang my bell. The problem was: I had just woken up and maaaaaaay have slightly been playing with myself. Girl, interrupted.

I grabbed a long dress shirt out of my closet and buttoned it up while running down the stairs. No time for pants. I opened the door, and looked straight into the eyes of a middle-aged man. He smiled at me, definitely gazed down at my bare legs that went all the way up to the shirt, and then back at my face again.

Couldn’t blame him, really. I looked like a girl who just got caught in the middle of a morning solo session and had slap-bang put on a lazy shirt to cover up at least something. Hey, what a coincidence!

I followed Mr. Fireman up the stairs (no way I would let him walk behind me) and pointed him to the first fire extinguisher. Then I had to make up my mind, like everyone always has to do in situations like these: do you get back into your apartment and mind your own business, or do you offer the guy a cup of coffee, keep him company and watch how he makes the building safe again?

I chose the latter. He gladly accepted the coffee offer, so I went back inside and quickly made him a cup. This is where I easily could have put on pants. Or at least some shorts. Something more than just panties. But I was horny, so I didn’t =D

Mr. Fireman went to work, checking the extinguishers, sipping from his coffee, doing his thing. I stood next to him, legit interested about how things worked. He explained that these extinguishers sometimes go bad, and that’s dangerous when there’s an actual fire. So he had to blow foam into a bucket and see if they still worked. Made total sense. All the while, I was standing there. He kneeled down every now and then, and every time he did, he sneakily looked at me, trying to catch a glimpse of what was under the shirt. And then I realized: this man would see many people every day, in their own home environment, but he would never really see them. Like: people would always pretend they’re super tidy and just good people. So I thought I’d give him a bit of a break.

I got him a new cup of coffee and put it down in front of him while he was doing his thing with the next extinguisher. I stood even closer than I did before, and more in his line of sight. I saw him trying not to look, but every now and again, he failed. I made sure he could see all the way up my legs, and even a tiny bit of panties. Suddenly, when the random chit-chat about his job had come to a bit of a standstill, he asked if I had a boyfriend. Nope, sir, no one is gonna complain about you staring at my legs. Not even me.

When we hit the next extinguisher, I ramped things up. He had asked about my studies and work, and I had started a lengthy explanation. While talking, I sat down against the wall, cross-legged. I made sure my panties were clearly visible, but pretended not to realize they were. Every time he looked at me, his eyes quickly went from my face down my body. I could almost see the stories forming in his head, stories he would tell his colleagues. I was happy to star in them.

Next up: escape routes. I followed him to the closest emergency door. He opened it and asked if I was okay with him having a smoke. Sure, I said, if I can borrow one. I had never been out here, and it was a bit cold, especially with my bare feet on the platform. He lit up my cigarette, my first in days, and it made me feel a bit woozy for a second. I grabbed his shoulder and held onto it in order not to fall over. He grabbed me, his hand entirely ending up on my butt, and asked if I was okay. I just giggled and stood there for a moment, before getting out of his grip. Mr. Fireman had touched my butt.

We talked about work some more. During a moment of silence, I turned around and stepped towards the ledge that had to stop people from falling down. I leaned over it and looked down, making sure the shirt crawled up my body enough for my panties to show. I stood there for a while. I didn’t look back, but I could feel his eyes staring at me. My butt, the one he had just more or less accidentally touched, was now clearly visible. For a brief moment, I hoped he would stand behind me, rip off my panties and take me from behind, but obviously, that didn’t happen. It did happen inside my head, though.

When we were done smoking, we went back inside. Mr. Fireman packed up his stuff and walked to the door. I stopped halfway through the stairs, watching him write something on a piece of paper. All’s well, he said as he turned around, reaching out at me to hand over the receipt. I took it from him and turned around. I walked up the stairs as slowly as possible, giving him one last look at my butt, wiggling it more than usual on purpose. I didn’t finish off what I started earlier that morning just yet. Instead, I fired up my laptop and started typing a blog post. Yep, this blog post.

By now, Mr. Fireman is probably checking out someone else’s extinguishers. Maybe he’s even having a smoke outside an emergency door. Either way, I hope he’s thinking about what he saw.

May he never forget.