A fire 

It’s a long meeting and I’m bored. 
I opened the door and there he was, leaning against the wall, taller than I had expected, shades reflecting my own disheveled self back at me. And it stung that I could compare so easily what I looked like and what he looked like, short hair groomed neatly with military precision, set jaw which had obviously been expertly and recently shaved, ironed textured white cotton shirt over pale blue undershirt, and well (oh so very very well) worn jeans covering steel toed shoes. Oh great, he had to catch me when I looked like Rosie o Donnell after a three day bender spent muff diving with her bestest fans. 
“What?! You can’t let me know you are coming?”
Even his smile pissed me off, so slow, so knowing that it carefully set every single one of my hackles up, in tiny sharp points. I may even have growled a little, like a bear scenting blood. 
“I was in the neighborhood,” he started. And goddammit his voice wrapped around my body sinuously, a rough velvet caress sliding over my tits like a lover’s tongue. 
“Fuck you. You live in Reno! You could’ve warned me.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” and he straightened and walked right at me, as I widened my stance, feeling mean and resentful. He smiled at the look in my eyes and slid his arms around my waist, casually slung me over his shoulder, kicked the door shut. 
I would be damned if I was going to beg him to put me down, my legs waggling in true damsel distress. I wondered if I could get him where I now really wanted to plant a serious injury. Picking me up like that, who the fuck does that, wait, oh yes, he’s a fireman. His arm, a strong hard band holding my knees in place, his shoulder firm, muscles shifting against my stomach as he turned to get through the doorway of my bedroom. His butt right there for me to see as it flexed and bunched as he walked. 
I was just about to reach out and touch it, while simultaneously checking exactly how far my left foot could reach as target, when his hand started a slow journey up my legs. I froze, trying desperately to remember if I had my sex destroying granny panties on, mortified to be caught being so unlike who I was online with him, my 36 year old boy toy, my pet fireman, cause you know you gotta try a firefighter at least once in your life. 
“Wait! I need to, I mean hang on just a minute, give me five minutes.”
“You’ve been teasing me for three months. I’ve been patient, let you take the lead. But you are just holding back because you have some crazy ideas about how you look and how I’d feel about it. I’m done waiting. It’s time.”
Damn it’s good to be the older woman once in a curry making while. 
©alka