Fisting the Fireman

Upstate New York—January, 2013

I had one final hook-up before I came home.  We’d been talking my entire time in the area, but our schedules had never meshed.  On my last day in town, they did.  I packed and drove into the country.  I got lost, missing an intersection that no longer had a marker.  I called and Jake set me right, then apologized that his time was curtailed.  We agreed to meet anyway.   Soon I was setting up the sling in his old farmhouse that was undergoing a long and complete renovation.

 He’s standing there in uniform.  I am unpacking the sling in the rough living room while he’s talking on his cell phone.  Jake has come direct from some sort of service club meeting.  He’s just under six feet tall.  His chest, under his shirt and uniform jacket, is broad and strong.   He’s shaved his head, but still wears the uniform cap.  His face is handsome, his voice incongruously high.  I pause and stand in front of the wood stove.  I warm my fingers.  I reach for the top cross bars of the frame as he hangs up.

“Gotta check my clean out.”  And he’s off  upstairs. 

I complete the set-up, strip down to my jock and hastily get my boots back on.

It’s cold.

And then he’s back, jocked and leather harnessed.  Jake’s gone from hot, local official to hotter leather man.  He sinks right to his knees and gets me hard.  We both know he is now rushed for time, so I quickly get him into the sling.  My piss shoots out of my hard cock.  I aim it at his ass crack. 

“Oh, man.  No one pisses around here.” 

I grunt agreement, knowing all too well how dry the area has proven.  I kneel and start licking it of his ass crack.  He’s groaning, telling me that that is so hot.  I settle down for a quick meal of hole and piss.  He is huffing poppers like a man possessed.  As I eat, I reach to the left where I’ve stashed the Magnums and get one in place.  I rise up, slapping my rubbered cock on his balls—so he can see I’m honoring our agreement—then slip it into his hot hole.  He’s tight.  He can grip.  I can’t tell anything about how silky his ass might be, but he’s so hot I don’t care.  I pound his ass relentlessly, pausing only occasionally so he won’t slosh his poppers all over himself. 

“Open my ass, stud.”

I slip on a pair of black latex gloves.  “I have something for you first.  I grab my speculum, then stand over him, my now naked cock resting on his white jock.  I piss.  Again.  It covers his pouch.  It is sopping when I am done.  One last spurt goes up to his nipples.  He rubs it into full, hairy chest.  I grab his lube and slather it on the flanges of the medical device.

“I’ve never had one up me before.”

“You will now.”  I push it in slowly.  He grimaces.  From the cold metal, not any pain.  When it is fully inserted, I start the crank open.  The lateral stretch is working for him.  He huffs more poppers and tells me it’s incredible.  I add my finger, touch his prostate.  He shudders and groans.  I keep cranking.

Finally, when it’s wide enough, I tell him I’m putting my cock up him.  I suit up and slip in.  We’ve talked about my pissing up his hole, but I can’t right now—and don’t really want to quite yet.

“I feel so full.” 

I nod.  Even with the latex, I can feel the difference between the cold (but warming) metal on the sides and his hot flesh above and below.  I fuck awhile.  But the condoms are getting to me.  I decide to go the whole hand.

Speculum out.

Two fingers in.  Then two from the left hand.  Then both together.  I pull in the same lateral stretch of the speculum.  I work slowly.  Adding a finger.  Then reducing the number. 

Alternating hands. 

Two.

Three.

Four.

Surprisingly, it’s my right hand, the bigger one, which pops into his ass.  I hold it there.

Jake’s eyes have rolled up into his head.  His hand is playing with his soft cock.  This is exactly what he wants.  I twist my right fist ever so slowly, surrounded by his hot flesh.  I pause, pull slightly out, then open my fingers in his ass.

Jake groans in true ecstasy.  I start to  pull out—and he shoots, never getting hard.

He’s up and off to shower as I pack so he can get back on duty.

And I’m blue balled for my final 18 hours of being in New York.