by Sparky Kronkite ©
Hey all, my name is Judy. Yes, that's my real name. I feel safe in relating to you this very true experience of mine by simply leaving out my last name. To you, I'm simply Judy. Nothing more, nothing less. And again, this is a true story. Believe me.
Let's start by me telling you a little about myself. I'm twenty-six years old and currently, and for that matter probably - for the rest of my adult career - a locally based television news reporter in a medium sized market in the mid-west. It's really very typical, long hours, running around with my news crew, covering virtually any type of story from crime to sports. The stories can be very boring or very exciting. I've gotten pretty good at it too. I can handle a camera if I need to. I know my audio stuff pretty well - lighting too. I can operate as a one woman show if I need to but most of the time I've got a person, a guy - a guy named Harry - he's the one who's assigned to me most of the time. He handles all the camera and audio stuff. With Harry all I have to do is read my own copy (that's without messing it up of course) - remembering to smile and of course - looking great.
And I must say, I do look great. I'm five-feet-eight inches tall, slender bodied, long legged and have a nice rack, if I do say so myself. I'm a thirty-five, a big B or small C, depending on my ego on any given day. I have very light skin with a few freckles sprinkled in just the right places. I have strawberry blonde hair that falls long, well past my shoulders when I'm not working but when I'm on camera I where it up - it looks more professional that way. Oh, and occasionally on camera, I where glasses, I put them on or take them off, adding effect in my delivery. It makes my audience look into my big, long-lashed green eyes. Okay, yes I'm a bit Irish - hell I'm all Irish. If I told you my last name you'd die. It's Irish to the hilt.
Anyway, being quite a bit Irish can occasionally get me into trouble and this is exactly what happened and why I'm relating this story to you.
We, Harry and I were nearing the end of a typical day, a rather dull day, July 3rd the day before the big holiday. We'd filed a live spot on "the dangers of fireworks and fire safety" for the 5:30 news show. For it we went live right in front of one of the larger firehouses in our small city. Harry did it all, Harry does it all - he drives the up-link truck, sets up the transmission equipment, sets up the camera and frames the shot. At the exact right time, he hands the microphone to me and when we receive our cue from the station - live we go. No fuck-ups allowed. It pretty pressurized.
Harry and I were wrapping up when I got a call on my cell phone - apparently our General Manager had come up with a great idea, at least that's what he thought. Our GM explained that even though he knew we'd had a hard day and were essentially finished for the day, that he wanted us to go into the firehouse and get some "one on one" interviews with the firemen. Get them to relate fire safety issues, get them to talk about their work over the big holiday - things like that. He said, "Everybody loves firemen. It'll be a great addition. We'll run it in the morning." He said, we could tape it - go on home - take the truck home with us. He suggested that Harry could drop me off at my place, pick me up in the morning and we'd cut the tape then. He said, he'd see us in the morning and to have a relaxing evening. Besides he added, "Those firemen are always cute, have a good time."
Have a good time. What an omen that turned out to be.
To tell you the truth, I just wasn't in the mood, it had been a very long day, it was hot, it was a holiday even - and I still had to work tomorrow. Crap. I just wasn't in the mood. But duty called, so I told Harry about the situation. No problem. Harry's a real trooper and I might add here, not bad looking himself. He's a big bo-hunk of a Canadian. About six-foot-two and one-ninety in the weight department. Harry's broad shouldered and pretty muscular but not too much so. They're okay, those big super muscled guys but I like what I'd refer to as a "nice normal cut." Harry has dark hair, a bit curly and he always seems to have this five o'clock shadow thing going on. I like that. I like Harry. Hell, I might have jumped his bones numerous times - as much as I've been around him the past couple of years - but he's married. Damn my luck. Hey, it's hard to meet guys with a work schedule like mine but - I'm no cry baby. Yeah, my life is pretty damn good. I'm just horny. I always need a guy. And don't have time to find one.
As Harry strapped on his battery belt preparing for the on camera interviews in the firehouse, I marched on in to introduce myself and see if the men in blue were even interested in making a few statements and answering a few questions. Not all people are these days but I figured they would be - they had to be relatively bored too. It was a very sleepy, hot summer holiday in the mid-west - how laid back could you get. I talked with the first fireman I ran into and he just happened to be the man in charge. He readily agreed to our plan and he began to assemble his men. He suggested that we get a full tour of the firehouse so we could pick the place that looked the best for the interviews on camera. Harry caught up with us completely outfitted for total news capturing and stated that he would definitely like a tour. Harry indicated that he really wanted a shot other than the typical shot that everyone usually sees - that's a fireman standing in front of a red fire engine. Cliche - out the wahzoo.
By now it was quarter to seven in the evening and the sun, still strong, was sinking low and very gold looking, great light for shooting video. Upstairs in the bunk area, I don't know what you call it, the living area, where the firemen sleep, I think they call it the barracks - with the light streaming through the windows - is where Harry thought the best shot was. We did our interviews, typical stuff. There were six male fireman and two female "firewomen" on duty - we interviewed them all. Good stuff too. Our GM would be delighted. We were done for the day.
Harry and I were coiling up our microphone cables when the fireman in charge, a very trim, thin mustached, medium tall fellow named James came over - and of all things, in a whisper and with a wink - offered us a beer. He said that of course, it was against department policy but the day was so slow and after all, it was a holiday - that he and his group of firefighters were willing to make the exception, if we were. Besides he told us, his team of firefighters were enthralled that they were going to be on TV and more importantly (to me anyway) - they watched me on the news all the time. He told me that his men in particular liked me a lot. They all thought I was beautiful and again with a wink and a whisper, he told me that his female firefighters liked me too. Wow! Was I flattered? Apparently this group of firemen and forewomen - were very tight, very close-nit group. I guess that's what sleeping, eating and showering with each other will do to a group of people, especially united by a common and dangerous profession. Harry and I excepted the invitation and in seconds were guzzling cool Guinness Stout with smiles on our faces. I thought, "Life is good."
It wasn't long before Harry and I were halfway through our third tall can of stout. Feeling good, feeling relaxed after our hard days work. And feeling good about the quality of our work too - and not having anything else to do that evening. (Harry's wife and daughter had gone to visit her mother for the holiday because Harry was having to work.) So, we kicked back and enjoyed ourselves. One of the firemen put a CD in a small boom box - it played Tom Petty's, "She's a good girl...." The sun sank lower toward the horizon throwing at us amber bolts of light, bathing the living quarters in gold. We watched as the sun began to fade. We had a good buzz going. I was happy.
As relaxed as I was, I didn't take too much to notice the sound of water(?) - a shower head - somebody taking a shower. Hmmm? No big deal. I eventually turned my head toward the noise, toward the bathroom, the shower room. I kind of did a slight double take and a little bewildered blink when I realized that I and all of us for that matter, could see right into the shower area. I could see at least one of the shower heads that was turned on and as I looked, to my disbelief, I saw one of the firemen - the tall, meaty African American one - naked(!) - taking a shower and soaping himself. I turned my head, back away from the shower room, embarrassed. I checked the other direction and Harry was still watching the sun set, he hadn't taken notice of this new sight. The other firemen and women were busying themselves with other things. I peeked back into the shower. Apparently alone in my voyeurism. A smile appeared on my lips.
Let me tell you, this man was gorgeous! Big, about six-feet-five inches tall, muscular and slender, with a light cocoa colored skin. He had a nearly shaved head and incredibly - he had almost no body hair. Smooth skin all around. And when he turned in my direction I saw the biggest god damn penis I've ever seen in my life! Bigger than any I'd ever seen in any porno movie. Yes, unless I was just too buzzed already, bigger than John Holmes. My eyes were now wide open and they were glued to this extraordinary sight. Help me Jesus!
Hell yes, yeah, I began to tingle. The heady combination of the stout buzz, these good looking guys all around me, (heck, firemen have always been a fantasy of mine), the lighting, the music - and that damn good looking hunk, naked in the shower room - had me swimming. Yet, still - nobody else seemed to be sharing my little vision. What the heck I thought - I'll just keep watching. I downed the rest of my Guinness. Eyes wide open.
Then, just as I thought life just couldn't get any better than this - another person appeared in the shower - NO(!) - two more! Holy shit! Two more people showed up in the shower room. Men? No. One was one of the females - a very nice looking, short cropped red-head, small framed and light weight, probably only about ninety-five pounds - very attractive though, in a more female than male, lipstick lesbian sort of way. The other body was that of one of the firemen, a golden colored Hispanic, about my height but broad shouldered and with a slight but not too unattractive little pudge in his gut. His hair was short, dark and curly like you might imagine. And when the Hispanic guy turned toward me, let me tell ya, he was no slouch in the pecker department either. Not nearly as massively whopping as the black guy but still - a big ass penis.
So, I began to think, just what the heck is going on here(?) - that's when James reappeared and nudged my shoulder, he asked if I'd like another Guinness. He cocked his head toward the shower room and said in a rather low voice, "I hope that doesn't bother you, as you might be able to tell, we're pretty close around here, it's no big deal to us but they can shut the door if you wish." To a bit of my own surprise I simply said, "Yes I'd love another Guinness." With a sly smile James asked, "Great! Might you like a stiff shot of good Irish whiskey to go with that?" I simply replied, "Sure."
Uh oh - I was thinking. Here - I - go... My Irish is up again. I'd better watch out. And that's when I began to wonder again about Harry - I looked over and he was gone. His gear was all there, the camera and all, but he was nowhere in sight. James came back with a fresh Guinness and a shot, he set it down and told me that Harry was getting a look at a new, state of the art, fire engine by two of his firefighters. James said, "Harry will be back soon." James then, went on about his business, what that was, I don't know but I was now left relatively alone and like a magnate, I couldn't keep my eyes out of that shower room. I was transfixed. I was horny.
In the shower room, by now lots of water was flowing and steam was forming in the heated air, this made it harder for me to see in there. I could make out the fleshy shapes and occasionally the steam would part and I'd get a clear shot of some nice ass but it was generally hard to see. As I starred I couldn't help but think I was seeing flesh on flesh, bodies against bodies - but I wasn't sure. I blamed the alcohol, my buzz. But I loved the feeling. I was getting too hot. Hell, my hair was hot. Little beads of sweat were popping up on my forehead. Still it felt very wonderful. I downed the shot James had brought me and as I did I winced and shut my eyes. Shaking off the spine tingling electricity given to me by the whiskey, I opened my eyes and I swear, I saw a little white hand stroking a huge black penis - frothing with soap. And then it was gone, obscured by a cloud of steam.
Gosh, I felt a bit embarrassed. I looked around me to see if anyone, James or anyone else had seen what I'd just seen - but I found myself alone. By now the sun had retreated below the edge of the skyline and the room was glowing in purples and grays. There was one table lamp, lit over on a small desk and the only other light was coming from the shower room. I looked around again. I was still quite alone. I could still hear water running and still make out the occasional fleshy shape in there, but - I made a big decision - I got up for a closer look. Heck, nobody was around, what the hell? I stood, beer in hand and headed toward the shower room door. My heart a pumping.
Yes, I was quite buzzed but hey I'm a big girl, I've been here before. I was a bit woozy yes and a little shaky on my feet too, but I was fairly graceful as I strolled over and leaned against the door jam of the shower room. I found that I could hide most of my silhouette so only my shoulders and head would be seen by anyone in the shower and still look casual. Checking first to see if anyone else was around and finding no one, I turned my head to look into the shower and what I saw made my heart fucking stop. My knees nearly buckled right out from under me. I might have even audibly groaned - I'm not sure.
There in all the steam stood the large African American stud, his shoulders leaning against the slippery tile wall, his pelvis arched forward with his huge, fire-hose dick sticking straight out and up and a steep rigid angle. At the end of his giant dick was the petite mouth of the female firefighter, the one with the close cropped hair. She couldn't even begin to get much of that large cock in her mouth, so she mostly worked her tongue up and down the under side of his shaft. On the down-stroke she'd flick her tongue over his round black balls, then back up, cover her mouth over the head and then slurp her way back down - over and over. The black man rocked his head back and forth in white eyed ecstasy. As I gazed down over the pretty woman's body, looking over her torso and then her hard tight ass, I at once noticed the Hispanic man, his head was buried in her bum, licking her asshole clean. My word! He was sticking his fat tongue into her like a small battering ram, her ass cheeks, as tight as they were, still rippled under his forceful thrust. Him? His eyes were closed and his right hand was rubbing his own substantial cock. And hell, she could only groan. Groan and lick, groan and lick.
|Another top quality story by Sparky Kronkite.|
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