When I was a firefighter 6 Chapter 8 part 3 of 4

When I was a firefighter 6
Chapter 8 part 3 of 4


Amanda replied, “It’s yours; it’s all yours!”

Olivia’s fingers became a blur before she said, “Say my name: whose pussy?!”

Amanda hummed and answered, “Olivia’s! It’s Olivia’s pussy!”

Olivia asked, “And how do I like it?”

Amanda continued to hum and answered, “Dripping!”

Olivia said, “There it is—dripping just like that!”

When Olivia pulled her hand away, Amanda was soaked; her crotch glistened even in the dark. Olivia planted a deep kiss on Amanda while stroking her hair. Cherry pointed my cock head back at Amanda’s vagina and we pushed it in with no difficulty.

Amanda responded to the sensation, “Wow! That really IS warm,” before they went back to kissing.

Olivia scooted back down in an effort to rub her clit on Amanda’s. She achieved her goal, but in doing so, she had her crotch grinding on me as well.

I quickly discovered that I could push for several strokes in Amanda before pulling out and quickly and smoothly pushing back into Olivia. So that was what I did for what seemed like forever. But my orgasm would not hit me. Olivia began to get tired and asked to switch positions with Amanda. I nodded ‘ok’ and they swapped places. Amanda’s breasts were very nice—even nicer than I had expected—but still not as perfect as Cherry’s. Olivia’s breasts had grown since I saw them before, but they were still small; nice, but small. The next thing I noticed (besides Amanda having a nice butt, too) was that she had a ‘tramp stamp’ on the lower part of the small of her back. The tattoo spelled ‘Olivia’ in script letters, each one a different color of the rainbow, and the ‘O’ was actually two closely interlocked symbols for the female of the species. As far as ‘lesbian tattoos’ go, it was probably about as ‘cliché’ as they get, but at the same time, it was done really well and looked nice on her.

Amanda took the same positions as Olivia had before and I returned to thrusting into one for several strokes before switching to the other. It was sort of like ‘Russian Roulette’, but instead of bullets, we were using semen. The only question was: who was going to get the shot? And at the rate I was going, the answer seemed like it would be ‘no one’.

Finally Cherry whispered, “Babe—what’s wrong? Why haven’t you…?”

I shook my head and said, “I’m not sure. I think it’s because I can’t see your face.”

Amanda and Olivia overheard me, and both purred, “AWWWWW….”

Cherry repositioned to the side of us and faced me before giving me a kiss. By this time, I had the positions of Olivia and Amanda’s pussies memorized and I didn’t even have to look to change between them. I continued thrusting into and switching between the two in front of me while kissing my wife who, even clothed, I found far sexier. My orgasm was finally building, and I knew it wasn’t going to take long. When I realized the ‘problem’ was as I had suspected, it started me thinking that it should really be Olivia that gets to carry the baby—as she wanted. All four of us were here because of her. I decided to try and make sure she got what she wanted.

My orgasm was still building, and I began taking long strokes in and out of the two lovers. Soon, I changed the pattern to just one stroke for each before switching. Cherry knew I was going to cum soon and she indicated as much, saying simply “any second…” I was just pulling out of Olivia and pushing into Amanda when I felt it start to release. But I didn’t want it to explode in, her so I rammed it home quickly as the first spurt blasted out, pulled it back, and drove my cock back down into Olivia as the orgasm finished exploding free.

As my cock finished pulsing out the last drops, Olivia whispered to her wife, “Looks like I’m ‘it’. Sorry, my Love.”

Amanda said, “It’s ok; I wanted you to be happy, too. I’ll carry the next one, ok?”

Olivia smiled and nodded in agreement before they kissed again.

I pulled my dick out of Olivia and it was soaked with fluids from the three of us. Cherry whispered to them ‘don’t forget the exercises’ and motioned for me to leave with her. I grabbed my underwear as we departed without another word. We went to the living room and I dressed quickly before we left the loving couple behind. We didn’t even say ‘goodbye’ to avoid disturbing them further.

Once in the car, Cherry said, “I can’t believe it took you so long to orgasm. You really couldn’t without seeing me?”

I said, “I really couldn’t. It wasn’t until you moved around beside me that it even started building.”

She said, “I thought you were just trying to hold on to it to try and turn them straight or something!”

I said, “Even I am smart enough to know better than that! No: it was all about you.”

Cherry smiled for a moment before saying with a teasing chuckle, “I ruined you for all other women, didn’t I?”

I answered, “Yeah; you did. And I’m not even joking!”

Cherry took my hand in hers and we rode in silence back to our apartment. Once we were home, I went and took a much-needed shower while.

Cherry busied herself in the kitchen.

After getting out of the shower, I put on a change of clothes and went to see what Cherry was doing. She was grilling a late lunch on the stove, and I couldn’t help dropping into my ‘redneck’ character voice.

I joked, “Now: that’s how I like to see my women folk! Barefoot ‘n’ pregnant while cooking in the kitchen! Dang girl if you aren’t puttier than my cousin!”

Cherry got into her redneck character and said, “Y’all best hush ‘fore Joe-Joe Bob hears you! You ‘member what happened last time he thought we’d fooling’ ‘round—you two was fighting’ out yandere so loud the whole trailer park was taking bets. You’d still be fighting if the law didn’t show up and ‘rest you both!

Still, in character, I said, “Joe-Joe is lucky his mamma called the law because I was faxing’ to whup his sorry ass!

Cherry said, “Yeah well, Daddy isn’t going to let me take the tractor into town to bail you out again.”

The thought of my pregnant wife riding into town on a tractor entered my head and I laughed for a split second before catching myself.

Dropping character, she said, “I made you laugh you lose!” Back in character, Cherry said, “Now why don’t you go sit in the easy chair and watch the TV; I’ll bring you a beer.”

Knowing she won the round, I said, “Yes, Ma’am!”

Cherry grabbed a beer from the fridge and pointed me toward the living room.

I said, “Babe, you don’t actually have to wait on me. What kind of guy lets his pregnant wife wait on him?”

She said with seriousness, “Go sit down! Go!”

I reluctantly took a seat in my old recliner, and she followed me, popped my beer, and served it to me before saying that she’d be right back and ‘not to move’. A few minutes passed and she returned with a plate full of food; grilled chicken, potatoes, and some mixed vegetables. Cherry stood next to me, turned around so that her legs were backed up to the arm of the chair, and sat down across it; taking a seat in my lap before twisting slightly to face me.

Holding a fork up with a bite of chicken on it, she said sweetly, “Open.” I opened my mouth, and she gave me a bite to eat. While I was chewing, she took a bite for herself. We continued sharing the plate of food in this fashion—with her doing all of the ‘work’. I just looked at her in amazement.

“Why are you so good to me?” I asked.

She said matter of fact, “You’re my husband. I Love you!”

I said, “Yeah but, there are a lot of women that love their husbands, and they don’t dote on them while pregnant like you are doing right now.

Cherry said, “Oh please! I’m not even showing yet! Trust me: before the baby comes, you’ll be waiting on me a lot, too.” Then she joked, “So,

I’m just paying you now for services I expect later!”

I said, “I’ll be happy to give you all the ‘services’ you can handle!”

Cherry rolled her eyes and said, “You’re a pig!”

She kissed me on the lips and took the plate from our finished lunch back into the kitchen. While passing through the living room, she turned on the sports center and said she’d be right back. I was getting caught up on all of the sports highlights I’d missed and lost track of time. But it must have been 15 to 20 minutes before Cherry ‘came right back’ because, when she did, she nearly gave me a heart attack! I was not expecting her to be wearing what she had on because I didn’t even realize she HAD what she was wearing! She wore the sexiest French Maid costume I’d ever seen, and she was in character, putting on a thick, French accent. I looked at her from the floor up, viewing her tall, black heels; stark-white thigh-high nylons; her jet black, hip-hugging skirt was so short it didn’t cover the tops of her nylons; the skirt had a white apron bordered with lace; her midriff was completely bare because her top was like a bikini top with puffy sleeves and a plunging neckline—her massive amount of cleavage was pouring out from it, and she had a black bonnet with white lace to match her skirt and apron. Completing the look was a prop feather duster that was as black as the costume.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” Cherry said.

Liking where this was going, I said, “Hello! And what is your name?”

Keeping the thick accent, she said, “I am Charry: your, new housekeeper. “She pronounced her name nearly like ‘Sherry’, but with an ‘a’ instead of an ‘e’ and a hard emphasis on the second syllable.

I said, “It’s nice to meet you, Cherry…”

She cut me off, saying “NO! Is not pronounce ‘Cherry’; is Char-rie!”

Corrected, I said, “Oh, Cha-rie—ok…”

She said, “yes!” as she playfully brushed me on the nose with her feather duster.

I asked, “And, you say you are my new housekeeper, huh?”

Cha-rie said, “yes sir,” as she pretended to start dusting random items in the living room.

I asked, “What happened to my last housekeeper—Lisa?”

She replied, “She was fired for not doing a good job.”

I replied simply, “I see.”

After a few moments of intentional over-acting and ‘cleaning’, she bent over at the waist to pick something up off of the floor and she never bent her knees to do so. The fact that she was wearing high heels made it all the more impressive (and sexy)! While she was bent over (for much longer than actually necessary to pick something up), her skirt had no chance of keeping her white satin panties covered. They were (naturally) French cut and had little ruffles along the hems. If she paid $5,000 for the costume, it was a bargain! I had to unzip my shorts…

I said, “That sure is a nice uniform, Cha-rie.”

Cha-rie seemed to disagree, saying, “AH! this uniform! Ridiculous! I’m so modest and, stuff ie! I look, how you say? A Prude?”

I laughed a little and said, “It is a bit conservative; I suppose. But you make it look great; not at all like a prude.”

Cha-rie smiled and said, “Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Mann!”

Cha-rie went back to ‘work’ and I just watched—enjoying every second of her performance. She moved in front of the TV and, to my utter astonishment, did a full split for the purpose of ‘organizing items’ on the TV stand. It had been a while since I saw her do one, but she did it just as easily as she had ever done. Once she ‘finished’, she stood and turned around to face me.

Feigning fatigue, she said, “Is so hot in zips uniform! I feel I cannot breathe!”

I said, “Cherry, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…”

She asked, “Would be ‘ok’ if I make the uniform…more comfortable?”

I said, “Of course: you are doing a great job; you should be comfortable while doing it.”

“Merci! Merci beaucoup!”

Cha-rie untied the knot between her breasts that were barely holding her top together. She slipped the top backward and let it slide down her arms behind her before catching it and tossing it to the couch. She was wearing a completely sheer, black bra that made the top look enormous. Before I had much time to react to the heavenly vision, she slipped her hands under her short skirt and wiggled herself out of her satin panties; tossing them next to her discarded top.

She said, “Ah, so much better. I can breathe again!”

I asked, “Are you ok to clean again now?”

Charry said, “yes I am finished cleaning for today.”

Disappointed, I said, “Oh, well: thank you for your services, Cha-rie. You were fantastic!”

She replied, “Silly monsieur Mann! I yem no fin with services; just cleaning!”

She walked up to me, got on her knees, and finished the job of freeing my rigid cock before tentatively stroking it for a few moments.

I made a joke and said, “Lisa never did this when she came here…”

Cherry said, “That is why she is fire… I try now to give vous good job.”

After a few more gentle strokes, it looked like Cha-rie was going to give me a really nice hand job. It surprised me when it quickly transitioned into a blow job… Cha-rie’s red wavy hair bounced in my lap as she gave me one incredible oral experience! She was so good, that my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I wanted to cum already, but I was not even close yet. I looked down just in time to see her peeking up at me. Our eyes met for a second and she tried to keep from smiling at my expression before going back ‘to work’. She bobbed almost furiously up and down while occasionally plunging all the way down and holding there. She began going all the way down more and more often until she began to get used to having my cock going down her throat. Cha-rie began going all of the ways down and then bobbed herself slightly; forcefully pushing her face into my pelvis. Despite receiving the best blowjob ever performed, I was still not ready to cum!

Cha-rie took a break to ask, “Is that ‘ok’ job I do for you?”

I said, “It’s so much better than just ‘ok’! It’s incredible!”

She asked, “But why vous not…”

I said, “I don’t know. I just can’t get there yet.”

She offered, “how do I get there.”

Not waiting for me to accept her ‘offer for help’, she stood, turned around, and began to sit on my lap while guiding my cock to the best place on

Earth (or anywhere, as far as I was concerned). My cock disappeared right in front of me as Cha-rie lowered herself to me. I held on to her hips as she began to rock and grind on my lap.

She began to hum and said, “Oh, Oui Monsieur; oui!” Then she collected herself long enough to say, “Vous tell me before vous ‘get there’? I not ‘ave birth control and I want fin a good job!”

I promised to tell her before I would cum and she went back to rocking and bouncing her ass on my lap. Each time she would raise up, it was clear to me just how turned on she was: my cock had a heavy coating of her fluids all over it. It was so thick that it looked like I was wearing an opaque condom! Cha-rie began to bounce in earnest and her hands went up to help steady her head while she began to scream. Suddenly her pussy clamped and pulsed while her juices squirted out, covering my lap. Even though she was looking away from me, it was too much to take and my orgasm began to build incredibly fast.

I said, “It’s coming soon!”

She jumped off of my lap and, without hesitation, swallowed my cock down while looking up at me with her beautiful green eyes full of anticipation. I blew my load with such force that it made the main gun of a tank look like a cork gun; Cha-rie was lucky to have survived the blast! She sealed her lips around my erupting cock and refused to surrender a drop of what I gave her. Even with the orgasm subsided, she continued the blowjob until there was no trace of fluids left behind. Once satisfied, she stood and began collecting the discarded parts of her uniform and she put them back on.

Cha-rie said, “you are ‘happy with job, monsieur Mann?”

I replied, “Oh yes, Cha-rie! I’m very happy—you are the best!”

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