I watch closely as he works on the button and zipper of the pants under his gear and then he’s pulling out his cock, so hard and ready and fucking beautiful.
I want to sigh at the vision before me, but I don’t, thankfully. I don’t want to appear too eager.
He strokes his cock from length to tip, eyes on mine, heat radiating through me and I think I’m going to burst into flames right here.
Rolling on the condom in the next movement, Caleb smiles but says nothing.
Swallowing, I lift my eyes to his. “You have condoms in your turnout gear?” My voice is soft. I’m almost embarrassed he’s prepared. Does he usually fuck women in bathrooms after he puts out fires?
Crap. I hope not.
His stare meets mine, but he doesn’t reply. I’m learning quickly Caleb only answers the questions he wants to. Or maybe talking with the mask on isn’t easy?
Reaching between us, he widens his stance and then slides easily inside me, and I forget about him being prepared as I stretch around him. Now I’m thankful he was so prepared.
My eyes travel over the length of his body, but more importantly, his turnout gear and that fucking mask.Goddamn, so hot!
“Fuck.” He moves, then groans, and winces in pain, shifting his position as if he’s uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?”
“My balls are pinched.”
I giggle. “Oh.”
After adjusting his pants, he brings me forward again and I curl my arms around his neck, my legs spreading wider to allow him better movement.
Hot bathroom sex isn’t what you think it would be. It’s one, hard to balance your ass on a counter. And two, quite difficult to keep from falling into the sink. Oh and don’t forget the ass cramps. Or your legs shaking when you’re trying to hold them up. It’s all rather awkward.
All that aside, take a firefighter in turnout gear, helmet and mask on, fucking you on that counter, you forget all about points one to three. At least I do.
His breathing is what gets me the most as he’s holding me against the sink, fucking me relentlessly and then slips one hand between my legs, circling my clit.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks, the subdued tone shooting a jolt of pleasure through me.
Why is this so insanely hot?
When I don’t answer his question, he stops and pulls his hand away, damn near causing me to moan as he waits for my answer.
I nod frantically, gripping the straps of the pack on his shoulders and yanking him to me. “I do . . .”
“Good girl.”
He’s got talented hands for sure because I’m dripping all over him in like two minutes, my legs tightening around his waist as I toss my head back against the mirror behind me. It takes everything in me not to scream out as my pussy clenches around him. The tightness starts in my belly, spreading through me like a wildfire. He slams his hips into me, relentlessly drawing my orgasm out.
With my head back, his fingers move from my clit to my mouth. “Suck,” he says, demanding more than asking as he forces my mouth open and sticks his fingers in my mouth. Immediately I taste myself on him, and it excites me even more.
His breathing intensifies, and he’s practically panting underneath the mask, and I’m getting concerned because it seems like this is a lot of fucking work and I’m worried.
Tossing his head back, he groans deeply and moves faster, the vision of me sucking on his fingers exciting him.
His helmet falls off, hits the ground at his feet with a thud, but his movements never stop. I’m sad the helmet’s gone but when he thrusts into me harder, his hands on my ass moving me into his motions harder, I forget about the helmet.
There’s some kind of buzzing sound, and I jump, looking back at him. “What the fuck is that?” I ask wide-eyed.
Caleb laughs, breathlessly and leans in a little more so his face is right next to mine, the mask against my cheek. “Tanks almost out of air . . .”
“Oh my God, move faster!”