Falling for the Firefighters (MMF Bisexual Menage Threesome)

Falling for the Firefighters

Amber Delray

Copyright © 2015 Amber Delray

All rights reserved.

This story contains language and mature content intended
for adult audiences only.

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"You're going to be the envy of every woman in
town," Mrs. Taft said.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked as she gave
the landlady a check for the first and last month's rent.

"You have the most desirable view in
Huntsville."

"Really?" The only thing Rachel could see out
the window was an ugly building with a bright red garage door. "What's so
special about
that
place?"

"It's the fire department."

Rachel stifled a groan. She imagined the sleepless
nights that lay ahead when the fire engines roared down the street with their
sirens blaring. No wonder the rent was so cheap here.

"I know what you're thinking," Mrs. Taft said,
"but you don't have to worry. Huntsville doesn't have very many fires. You
won't even know the station is there."

Rachel was doubtful. "So what's to envy about a
view of the firehouse?"

"Tuesday afternoons," Mrs. Taft said with an
enigmatic smile.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just wait and see," Mrs. Taft said as she
gathered up her purse and hurried out the door.

Great, I've got a kook for a landlady
, Rachel
thought, and started unpacking her moving boxes.

Two days later—when she'd forgotten about Mrs. Taft's
nutty proclamation—Rachel heard the sound of loud voices and raucous male
laughter from outside. She went to the living room window and peeked around the
curtain.

A pumper truck was parked in the driveway across the
street. Half a dozen firefighters were gathered around, armed with buckets and
sponges.

Rachel's breath hitched in her throat.

In the heat of the afternoon, the men had stripped out
of their white t-shirts. A gorgeous sea of half-naked bodies glistened with
sweat as they washed their vehicle.

One man in particular caught her attention. His chest
was broad, his jaw was square. He looked more like a rugged wilderness
adventurer than a small town firefighter. As he worked his soapy sponge across
the truck, a lock of his dark hair swayed back and forth on his forehead.

Rachel was mesmerized. She wanted nothing more than to
run her fingernails down his chiseled pecs; to press her lips against the hard
ridges of his belly; to tug his tight, form-fitting trousers down his hips so
she could—

A knock at the front door brought her back to her
senses.

"W-who is it?"

"Mrs. Taft, dear."

Rachel took a deep breath and tried to compose herself.
"I'll be right there," she said.

The landlady breezed into the house and raised a curious
eyebrow. "Are you feeling okay, honey? You look a little flushed."
Her gaze wandered to the window where the curtain hung askew. A knowing smile
spread across her face. "I see you've discovered Sexy Tuesdays."

Rachel blushed. "Do they wash their truck
every
week?"

"Like clockwork. Have you picked your favorite
firefighter yet?"

Rachel twisted her toe into the carpet and shook her
head.

"C'mon, dear, don't be shy." She gave Rachel a
gentle nudge in the ribs. "Personally, I've got a sweet spot for Hank.
He's a little chunkier than the other boys, but I'd give anything to be wrapped
in those big strong arms of his."

Rachel confessed that she had a crush on the gorgeous
man with the jet-black hair. She also took a fancy to the tall blond who
sported the physique of a Norse warrior.

"Those two are eye-candy all right," Mrs. Taft
agreed with a dreamy sigh. "Sadly, my dear, you've pinned your hopes to
the wrong pair."

Rachel frowned. "Please don't tell me they have
girlfriends or wives."

"If that was the case, you'd have a fighting
chance."

"What do you mean?"

Mrs. Taft's voice dropped to a whisper. "The talk
around town is that Tony and Sven only have eyes for each other. Although, no
one's ever confirmed that rumor for certain."

Rachel's heart sank.

"Personally, it doesn't bother me in the least.
Sometimes, when I'm feeling saucy, I like to picture Tony and Sven together ...
doing
it." She closed her eyes and gave a little shiver.
"There's nothing hotter than two powerful men tussling with each other
like a pair of wild animals. Sometimes I like to imagine Hank getting in on the
action too."

Rachel coughed loudly when Mrs. Taft began to sway back
and forth and moan.

The landlady's eyes snapped open. "But look at me,
prattling on. I almost forgot why I came over here in the first place."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of red wine. "I brought
you a house warming gift, dear."

"That's so kind of you. Can I offer you a
glass?"

The two women peeked around the curtain and sipped
Merlot while they exchanged naughty observations about the firefighters.

"You should go over and introduce yourself," Mrs.
Taft insisted.

"I look like a total mess. I've been unpacking
boxes all day."

"You look lovely, dear. Those boys would give
anything to have a pretty neighbor pay them a visit."

When Rachel continued to resist, Mrs. Taft grabbed the
bottle of wine and filled the girl's glass to the brim. "Have another shot
of courage and get out there. Help an old woman live vicariously through your
adventures."

Rachel hadn't eaten anything all afternoon, so the drink
went to her head faster than expected. Mrs. Taft's coaxing was relentless.
Before Rachel realized what was happening, she found herself stumbling out the
front door and across the street.

The summer air was thick with the smell of auto body wax
and the musky aroma of sweaty men. Rachel felt unnaturally warm. Fear, desire
and embarrassment churned inside her. The tiny bit of confidence she'd mustered
in her living room diminished with each step she took towards the firehouse.

One by one, the men noticed her standing like a startled
fawn on their driveway. Tony was the last to see her. As his grey eyes met
hers, Rachel was unprepared for how handsome he looked up close.

"Hello," he said.

She opened her mouth to reply. A gulp was the only sound
to come out.

"May I help you with something?" he asked.

Soapy suds trickled down the swell of his bicep. Rachel
longed to reach out and wipe him clean so she could caress those sleek muscles.

"Excuse me, Miss," he said. "Do you speak
English?"

"H-hello," was the only word she could muster
before her mind went totally blank. A surge of panic rose in the back of her
throat. The fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. Turning on her heel, she
sprinted back to her house, leaving six confused firefighters in her wake.

"I'm such an idiot!" she cried as she threw
herself onto the couch. "They probably think I’m a mental patient who
escaped from the institution!"

"Stop being so hard on yourself, dear," Mrs.
Taft said in a soothing voice. "Everyone gets a case of the nerves once in
a while. Get back on that horse and give it another try."

Rachel sat up. "What! You think I should go over
there again? After I made a fool of myself?"

Mrs. Taft nodded. "Make up an excuse that you left
your stove on, and that's why you hurried away so abruptly. I'm sure they'll
understand."

Rachel had no intention of returning. But even if she
did, it was too late. The fire truck was backed into the garage, and Sexy
Tuesday came to an end.

When the landlady left, Rachel reached for the wine.
Three glasses later, the room began to spin. But so did the wheels in her head.

Perhaps Mrs. Taft is right,
she thought
. If I
don’t go over and make a proper introduction, Tony and the others will write me
off as a total weirdo.

The more she drank, the more it seemed like a good idea.
This time she vowed to be more prepared. She'd bring the men some of her
special cupcakes to help break the ice. Wasn't that the best way to win a man's
affections? Through his stomach?

Her preparations were rather sloppy because she'd never
baked while drunk before. But the first batch of treats came out perfectly. She
slid the second tray into the oven to cook, and went upstairs to run a bath. If
she was going to return to the firehouse tonight, she needed to make herself
look more presentable.

As she waited for the tub to fill, her thoughts were
filled with images of Tony's sensuous lips, his powerful shoulders, his perfect
six-pack.

The moment she climbed into the steamy water, her
fingers began to wander. She imagined it was
his
hands trailing across
her breasts.
His
hands vanishing between her thighs to seek out the soft
folds of her sex.

Rachel took a big slurp of wine and rested the glass on
the edge of the tub. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and let out a soft moan
as she surrendered to her fluttering caresses.

*

A splintering crash filled the air. Rachel jerked
upright. Her head was woozy with wine. Her thoughts were muddled.

Was she dreaming? She
had
to be. A fireman was
standing above her, brandishing an axe. The bathroom door hung off its hinges
behind him.

She recognized Tony at once, even though an oxygen mask
covered his face. Those piercing grey eyes were unmistakable.

His words were muffled and indistinct. He put down his
axe and scooped her out of the tub, cradling her naked, dripping body in his
arms.

This sure is a vivid dream
, Rachel thought.
But
I'm loving it!

She clutched his neck and snuggled closer.

Tony was running now—out of the bathroom and down the
hall. Thick clouds of smoke were everywhere. Something foul was burning, and
Rachel began to cough. Tony gripped her tighter as he headed for the stairs.

They burst through the front door and into the yard. In
the driveway sat the freshly washed pumper truck with all its lights flashing.
An ambulance was parked at the curb.

The fresh air brought Rachel back to her senses with
surprising speed.

Oh my God, this isn't a dream! I'm really outside! And
I'm stark naked!
What's happening?

Tony placed her on a stretcher inside the ambulance. He
tore off his helmet and mask. His hair tumbled across his forehead. There was
no time for Rachel to dwell on how sexy he looked—she had to stop him from
seeing her undressed!

She tried to cover her crotch and breasts, but Tony
pulled her arms away and began a hurried examination of her body. "Where
are you hurt?" he barked.

"Let me go!" she cried. The words were thick
and mealy in her mouth. It was useless to struggle against the firefighter. His
grip was too powerful.

"Where did you cut yourself?" he said.
"You're bleeding all over."

"I'm what?" Rachel was thoroughly confused.
She didn't feel injured, but when she glanced down at her body she gasped in
shock. Her torso was streaked with rivulets of red. It only took her a second
to realize what had happened. "The Merlot!"

Now it was Tony's turn to look confused. He grabbed a
handful of gauze and mopped her breasts. When he lifted the material to his
nose, a look of relief washed over his face.

"I must have spilled my glass in the tub,"
Rachel explained. "Now will you
please
give me something so I can cover
myself!"

Before Tony could find her a blanket, Sven appeared at
the door of the ambulance. "We found the culprit," he said, holding a
charred object in his gloved hand. "A bunch of these were burning in the
oven."

"Oh, no!" Rachel groaned. "The
cupcakes!" She had forgotten about the second batch when she'd drunkenly fallen
asleep in the bath. She hadn't heard the kitchen timer go off.

I'm such an idiot!

"One of the neighbors saw smoke coming from your
window," Sven said. "Lucky for you, these were the only things to
catch fire." He tossed the carbonized cupcake up and down like a black
baseball.

Tony wrapped Rachel in a white sheet and escorted her
back to the house. A blower had been left in the kitchen to help clear out the
remaining smoke.

"Will you be all right tonight," he asked.

She nodded and stood awkwardly in front of him, very
much aware that the generous curves of her damp body were clinging to the
sheet. "I really made a mess of things today, didn't I," she said.

"It could've been worse," Tony replied. He put
his hands on her shoulders and fixed her with his gorgeous eyes. "Will you
promise me something?"

"Anything," she said in a breathless whisper.

"Never drink and bake again." He gave her a
saucy wink before turning back to his fire truck.

The single flutter of his eyelash had electrified every
nerve ending in Rachel's body. She closed the door behind him and sank to the
floor. It didn't matter that she'd made a fool of herself in front of him twice
in one day. She was more determined than ever to have him.

The next morning she swallowed a handful of aspirin to
keep her throbbing hangover at bay, and finished icing the unburned cupcakes.

A smoky fragrance continued to linger in her hair, even
after she'd bathed. With any luck, the firefighters would find the aroma
alluring. She took one last look at herself in the hallway mirror, smoothed her
skirt, and marched out the door.

There was no one working in the front office when she entered
the station house. She wandered down the hallway. "Hello? Is anyone
here?"

Tony and Sven were in the garage, organizing fire
equipment.

With her face scrubbed clean, and her hair pulled back
in a ponytail, she was almost unrecognizable. "I'm Rachel," she said.
"From across the street. The girl with the flaming cupcakes."

"Of course," Sven said with a twinkle in his
eye. "How could we forget."

Rachel had a sneaking suspicion that he was thinking
back to her appearance in the ambulance the night before: naked and soaked in
wine.