Country/western bars are getting few and far between anymore, at least the bars where you can be sure there won’t be a fight at some point during the night. That’s a damn shame because I always liked the atmosphere.
You’d see a bunch of young girls in tight jeans and tight check blouses doing line dances on the dance floor and a bunch of young guys holding long necks standing at the rail around the dance floor and watching.
Usually there was at least one pool table in the place and you’ll see a bunch of guys waiting to play the winner of the current rack. Eight ball was the standard game, and early on, there’d be some pretty good eight ball being played. As the night went on and the beer flowed, the play got a little sloppy, but everybody had fun.
In a real country/western bar, the DJ loves country music and knows what to play and when. He’d probably be playing some old standards until the crowd started coming in, but then he’d play a two-step or two followed by a couple of line dances for the girls, and then a slow song. The slow song was so the guys standing at the rail could ask the girls to dance when they walked off the dance floor.
Usually the girl would nod, they’d walk out onto the floor and the girl would drape her arms around the guy’s neck. The guy would put his hands on her back unless they were a regular thing. If they were, he put his hands on her ass and pull her into his chest. They didn’t really dance. They just rocked back and forth until the music stopped. I know several couples who met that way, ended the night dancing slow dances together and finally got married.
There’s only one real country/western bar left where I live. It’s pretty small but it’s like they all were back when. Sandy, the owner’s wife, tends bar and Trixie, an absolutely gorgeous blonde, waits tables. That night, I was sitting there listening to the music and nursing my second beer. When Tommy, the DJ, played “The Fireman” by George Strait, I had to smile. That song took me back about thirty years, back to when I was a volunteer fireman.
In case you don’t understand what a volunteer fireman is, he’s a guy who volunteers his free time to be a fireman. Volunteer fire departments are pretty common in small towns, because small towns can’t afford full time firefighters. Instead, they build a firehouse, buy a used fire engine, and send the volunteers to fireman’s school. Volunteer firemen don’t get paid for risking their lives so it’s a wonder that almost seventy percent of all firemen in the US are volunteers, but they are.
I was one of those guys who had a pager on his belt 24/7 and responded to every call if I wasn’t at my regular job no matter the day or time. I had red lights and a siren on my pickup and was authorized to use them on my way to the firehouse. It felt pretty good to be serving my little town, but then at twenty-two I didn’t have enough sense to really understand the risk. As my uncle said when I enlisted in the Army the month I got out of high school, I was full of piss and vinegar but flat out of brains.
The reason I was smiling was I was remembering a fire at Patty Cramer’s house. It wasn’t a big fire. At that time, most people had an empty fifty-five gallon steel barrel with the top cut out in the back yard. That barrel is where they burned all their burnable trash. Over a few years, the bottom of the barrel would rust out from the heat and rain. Pattie’s had a big hole in one side and a stray piece of paper had fallen out and caught her back yard on fire.
She called the fire department and I happened to be there with two other guys, so we drove the fire engine out to her house. By the time we got there, the fire had burned through all the dry grass around the burn barrel and had slowed down a lot because the rest of the grass was green. It took us only about five minutes to put it all out.
I knew Patty from high school. She was a year younger than I and I already had a steady girlfriend then, so I’d never dated her, but she had some classes with me so I saw her a lot. I also liked her a lot because she was one of the smartest girls in school. Patty was one of those girls who smiled all the time, and she always said “Hi” if she saw me.
She’d gotten married to Joe Cramer a year after she graduated high school, but it didn’t work out. That didn’t surprise me because Joe was pretty much a horse’s ass to everybody. He thought being the quarterback for the football team when he was a junior and a senior somehow made him special. Joe did get a football scholarship to the state university, but with all the women around, he apparently couldn’t concentrate on studying what little he had to study. He flunked out the first semester.
Joe came back to town and started working at the feed store. I never understood why Patty married him except that Patty wasn’t really very pretty and she was a little overweight. I figured Patty must have thought Joe would be better than spending the rest of her life alone.
Anyway, Joe couldn’t stop what he’d done in high school, that being he’d dated every cheerleader and according to him, had fucked every one of them at least twice. Once he was married to Patty, he stayed straight for about three months, but one night, Harry, the town cop, caught Joe and Sheila Moore, one of those former cheerleaders, in her car behind the feed store.
Sheila tried to tell Harry she’d had car trouble and Joe was helping her get it running again. Harry told me he’d had a hard time not laughing because when he shined his flashlight through the back seat window, Sheila’s blouse was open and her bra was pulled up over her breasts. Harry didn’t write a report or do anything except tell them they needed to do their car work someplace besides the alley behind the feed store.
Something like that was too good to keep secret though, and though Harry denied telling anybody, word got out. I always suspected it was Joe who told somebody. He’d always been pretty proud about having sex with a lot of women, and I didn’t figure he’d changed much.
Anyway, Patty found out about Joe and Sheila, and divorced him. Joe didn’t deny it had happened. From what I heard, he just shrugged, grinned, and said he couldn’t pass up the chance to fuck Sheila again.
Joe didn’t have much to start with except the house his grandmother had given them and his pickup, and after the divorce, all he had left was his pickup. He drove his pickup to Middleton to start a new life and Patty kept living in the house. She worked at the bank as a teller to make ends meet, and I’d see her there when I deposited my paycheck every week.
After we put out the grass fire, I talked to Patty for a while so she’d understand what happened and wouldn’t do it again.
“Patty, you really should get a new burn barrel. This one’s all rusted out at the bottom and that’s what started the fire. It wouldn’t take much because the grass around it is pretty dry. You’re just lucky it rained a couple of days ago. We could have been out here trying to keep your house from burning down.”
“I’ve been meaning to get one. I guess I better do that now. Do you know where I can get one?”
“They usually have a couple down at Don’s Garage.”
Patty frowned then.
“I don’t know how I’ll get one home because it wouldn’t fit in my little car.”
Well, like I said, I’d always liked Patty.
"I can go down with you and haul it back in my truck.”
Patty smiled again.
“I’d really appreciate it if you could do that. Are you busy on Saturday afternoon?”
That Saturday about two, I picked up Patty at her house and drove over to Don’s Garage. Ten minutes later, I had a new burn barrel in the back of my pickup and we were driving to Patty’s house.
When we put out her grass fire, it looked to me like Patty had lost some weight. She wasn’t wearing anything tight, but her face looked thinner. That Saturday, it was pretty warm, so she was wearing shorts and a snug T-shirt, and it looked like her thighs were a lot slimmer than I remembered. Talking seemed more polite than staring at her.
“So, how you been doin’, Patty?”
“Well, except for the fire, pretty good.”
“Looks like you’ve changed some. You look uh…thinner.”
“Thank you for noticing. When I heard about Joe and Sheila, I sat down and had a good, long talk with myself. Sheila was skinny and I was fat, and I figured that was what made Joe do what he did. At the hearing, I learned it wasn’t. Joe just couldn’t keep it in his pants, but it still made me think. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone, and I figured to find another guy, I’d have to get a lot thinner.
“It was easier than I thought it would be. Joe always wanted big meals, so that’s what I cooked. After the divorce, I started eating less and I started eating a lot of salads. I bought some of those exercise videos too, and I exercise every night.”
“Well, it shows. You look great.”
“I wish some other guys thought that. I think they still see me like I was when we were in school, plain and fat.”
“Well, I never thought you were fat. A little pudgy maybe, but you weren’t fat. Diane was fat.”
Patty giggled then.
“You should have seen her taking a shower after PE.”
“No, I don’t think I’d have wanted to see that.”
“Well, you have to agree that I wasn’t pretty. I was just plain. Mom wouldn’t let me wear any makeup like the other girls did. She said makeup doesn’t make a woman pretty. It’s what’s inside that makes her pretty. It’s pretty hard to show a guy how you are inside if he doesn’t even look at the outside. Nobody looked at me back then. They looked at Shirley and Rita though.”
“Well, guys don’t know much when they’re in their teens. Shirley and Rita were supposed to be hot, or at least that’s what all the guys thought. I never found out because they always dated guys who played football or basketball and I didn’t.”
“You looked at them though, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes. I wasn’t any smarter than the rest of the guys.”
Patty was quiet for a while, but then she surprised me.
“Do you really think I look good like you said?”
“Well, sure, because you do.”
“Well, that’s good to know. The only man who tells me that is Mr. Reynolds, but he’s almost seventy. He told me one day if I ever needed a place to stay, I could live at his house. I think he was just kidding me. I mean, at his age, what could we do together?”
“I’ve known Jack since I was ten. I’m sure he has a lot of ideas about what you could do together. He may be old, but he doesn’t think he is.”
“Well, I couldn’t do anything like that.”
After I unloaded Patty’s new burn barrel, I told her I’d take care of the old one for her and loaded it into my truck. She waved when I drove down the alley.
I knew exactly what Jack thought he could do with Patty. Jack had somewhat of a reputation for being a ladies man, and he was proud of it. Most Saturday nights you’d find Jack sitting at the bar down at Blake’s Tavern and nursing a beer while waiting for Melody Mason to get there.
Melody was about fifty to Jack’s seventy, and she’d been married and divorced five times. Jack didn’t care about her age or how many men she’d had. What he cared about was Melody’s big breasts, or at least that’s what he told everybody.
Before Melody, it was Janice Hawkins. Janice had big breasts too. Before Janice it was Arlene James. Arlene was a big girl all over, and her breasts were huge.
Over the years, Arlene and Janice ended up getting married and didn’t come to Blake’s anymore so Jack looked around and found Melody. From what he said to me, Melody was better than Janice and Arlene put together.
“She ain’t got much of a face, but them tits are fun to play with and she can blow my cock with the best of ‘em. Got a tight little pussy too. Wouldn’t think it’d be tight since she had four kids, but it’s tight as a bull’s ass.”
Since Patty had lost weight everywhere except the weight in her bra, I figure Jack was licking his lips and planning to, as he was fond of saying, “suck her tits until she’s begging to be fucked and then stick her good with the old woman pleaser”.
The way Patty had talked, I didn’t figure Jack had a chance, but he’d never passed up the chance to try that I knew of.
I didn’t understand why Patty didn’t have a man to help her, even if it was just a boyfriend. She’d changed a lot and she’d changed for the best. Like I said, in high school she was a little pudgy and she was shy because of that. Now, she’d turned herself into a pretty sexy woman and she didn’t seem shy at all. I was glad I’d helped her get a new burn barrel because she was pretty nice to be with.
It was three days later I got a call at about six that night. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered it anyway. It was Patty.
“Bill, I was frying some bacon and my skillet caught on fire. I dumped a box of salt in the skillet and put out the fire, but could you come over and make sure nothing else got on fire? I don’t want to wake up tonight and find my kitchen in flames.”
It seemed like a silly request. A skillet fire usually just involves the skillet and if Patty had put that out, she probably didn’t have anything to worry about. Still, I’d sworn to do my best at the job of volunteer fireman, so I couldn’t very well tell Patty no.
When I got there, it was about what I expected to find. The skillet was still on her stove and filled with salt. I looked around behind the stove and at the ceiling, but nothing looked burnt. I turned to Patty to tell her that.
“Patty, it looks fine to me. I don’t feel any heat behind the stove and the ceiling isn’t even any darker. I think you got it before it did any real damage. Do you have a smoke detector?”
Patty shook her head.
“No, but after this I should probably get one, shouldn’t I? If I hadn’t been standing here when it happened, it could have gotten a lot worse.”
“Yes, every kitchen should have one. You should have one in your bedroom too so you’ll be sure to hear it if it goes off. They have them at the hardware store and they don’t cost much. They’re easy to install too. You just have to remember to change the battery once a year, but they’ll beep and tell you when to do that.”
Patty smiled that smile again.
“I’ll get two tomorrow. I’m not sure how I’ll get them put up though. Don’t they have to go on the ceiling? Even standing on a chair, I don’t think I can reach that high.”
It seemed like she was asking for help again, and I didn’t mind. It would be about like when we went to the grade school every year and taught the kids to “stop, drop, and roll”, just another community service. Well, that’s what I told myself anyway.
“Well, you shouldn’t stand on a chair. That’s a sure way to fall and hurt yourself. Tell you what. You get the smoke detectors and I’ll bring my stepladder over and put them up for you.”
The next night, I tossed my step ladder in my truck and drove over to Patty’s house. She smiled when she let me in.
“I got two, like you said, and I got batteries too.”
The one in Patty’s kitchen was easy to install. I put it on the ceiling on the side of the room opposite her stove. That would help keep it from alarming because of normal cooking smoke. I showed her how to test it by pushing the little button.
“You can probably reach it with a broom handle and you should test it at least once a month.”
The one in Patty’s bedroom was a little harder, but not because it was difficult to reach the ceiling. It was because she’d left a bra and a pair of panties on her bed. I was almost finished putting that one up when Patty noticed me looking at them every once in a while.
“Oh, God. I left my underwear on the bed. Sorry about that. I don’t usually invite anybody into my bedroom so I didn’t even think.”
She grabbed the bra and panties and stuck them in a drawer in the dresser on one wall, then came back to my ladder grinning.
“You’re the first guy to see my underwear since Joe.”
I didn’t know how to reply to that, so I put the battery in the smoke detector, closed it up, and then pushed the test button. It beeped like it was supposed to.
“OK, Patty, that’s got you fixed up. Just remember to test them every month and keep the batteries changed. They might save your life someday.”
“I will. I’d like to thank you some way, Bill. Would you like a cup of coffee or something? I made a cake last night and I’ll never eat it all by myself.”
Patty made good coffee, but her cake was fantastic. It was a carrot cake with sour cream icing, probably my favorite kind of cake, and she cut me a slice big enough for two servings. It would have been rude to tell her I didn’t want that much, and after the first bite, I didn’t want to.
I went home that night thinking Patty was a pretty special woman. She’d been cheated on, but she still seemed to be happy all the time. It hadn’t been that way with Sandy. Sandy was one of those high school cheerleaders I didn’t date. She’d married Jimmy Conklin the summer they graduated, Jimmy had played basketball through all four years of high school, but he didn’t get a scholarship to anywhere. He got a job at Don’s Garage doing oil changes and changing tires.
I suppose it was the loss in status from basketball star to flunky mechanic that caused him to start drinking so much. Sandy divorced him after a year, and she hadn’t been the same since. She never smiled at her job as a cashier at the grocery store, and had told more than a few people she’d had it with men. That was probably good, because from what I heard at the firestation, there weren’t any men in town who liked her either. In addition to being a bitch all the time, Sandy had gotten pretty chunky.
That summer was pretty quiet as far as fires go, but summers usually are. People don’t use their fireplaces or heaters during the summer. We did put out a fire in Jason Ward’s garage. He’d been smoking a cigarette while cleaning the carburetor on his lawn mower, and he was using a quart jar of gasoline to do it. Jason didn’t get hurt, really. He didn’t have much in the way of eyebrows or hair on the front of his head and he didn’t have much of a garage left by the time we put out the fire, but at least his house didn’t burn too.
Most fires we fought happened in the fall and winter. People don’t think to clean out their fireplace chimneys and they use portable electric heaters to help heat some rooms. Both are a recipe for disaster, though we didn’t get many fires cause by electric heaters. The new ones all have over-temperature and anti-tip switches that stop them from causing a fire.
I didn’t see Patty again until the first cold snap came through. It was about six at night again when my phone rang.
“Bill, I tried to get my furnace to come on, but it’s just blowing cold air. I went and looked at it, and the little blue fire on the tube thing has gone out. I’m afraid if I try to light it, I’ll blow it up. Is there anyway you could come help me? I don’t know who else to call, and I’m about to freeze.”
I told myself if I didn’t go light Patty’s furnace, she might try to do it herself and while it’s an easy thing to do, there had to be a reason her pilot light had gone out. If something went wrong, she could possibly start a fire.
Patty met me at the door in sweatpants and a long coat.
“The furnace is in the basement, and it’s colder down there than it is up here. I’ll show you.”
I turned Patty’s thermostat down so if I got the pilot light lit, the furnace wouldn’t come on, and then checked everything I could think of and didn’t find anything obviously wrong. What sometimes happened is a good strong wind could blow down the furnace flue and blow out the pilot light, and we’d had a couple of really windy days the week before.
“Well, I don’t see anything wrong except your pilot light is out. You stand back while I light it just in case I missed something.”
I’d brought along the butane lighter with the long snout I use to light my charcoal grill. I pushed in the button to let natural gas flow to the pilot and clicked the lighter. The little blue flame I was expecting lit and while I held down the button, I watched the thermocouple start to turn red. After about a minute, I stopped pushing the button and the pilot light stayed lit.
“Well, this looks OK. Go upstairs and turn your thermostat up to where you usually keep it. I’ll stay here to make sure the burner lights like it should.”
Less than a minute after Patty went upstairs, the furnace burner lit and the fan came on. I watched it for a while and everything looked normal, so I closed up the panel and went upstairs. Patty was standing over a floor register grinning.
“Ah…heat at last. My fingers were starting to get stiff. Thanks for coming over.”
“I think you should be good to go now, Patty. Everything looks fine.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you could stick around for a while just in case. I’d hate for you to get home and then have me call you again.”
Half an hour later, Patty took off her coat.
“Whew. It’s getting warm enough I don’t need this coat anymore.”
I found myself wishing she’d left the coat on. I’d expected her to be wearing a sweatshirt under the coat. She wasn’t. She was wearing a T-shirt that was straining to stretch over her breasts, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. I must have been staring because Patty looked at me and smiled.
“Is something wrong, Bill?’
I shook my head.
“No, it’s just that…”
I couldn’t finish because what I was thinking would have probably embarrassed Patty. She wouldn’t let me just drop it though.”
“Well, I just didn’t realize…I mean…that shirt…”
“You don’t like my shirt? I can change it if that makes you happy.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s me.”
Patty walked over and put her hand on my arm.
“You look fine to me. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I think I should probably be going.”
Patty smiled a sheepish little smile.
“You can’t go now, not after I went to the trouble of turning off the furnace pilot light so I could get you here.”
“Patty, why would you have done that.”
Patty moved her hand from my arm to my chest.
“Well, nothing else I was doing made you notice me, not even leaving my underwear on my bed that time. I thought you’d say something, but you didn’t. I figured I wasn’t very good at giving you hints so I’d have to be more direct.”
Pattie put her arms around my neck then.
“I was hoping you’d stay and put out the fire.”
“The fire inside me. That’s what firemen do, isn’t it – put out fires? I can’t think of another fireman I’d rather have put out this one.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”
Patty stroked my cheek.
“I have since high school, but you never looked at me and you never asked me out.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Well, I couldn’t very well just walk up and say I wanted to screw you, now could I? You’d have thought I was a tramp like Jackie.”
“No, I wouldn’t have.”
“Yes you would have, but now I can tell you. It’s still kind of trampy, but I don’t care now. I just want you to want me. Do you, or have I been wasting both our time?”
Did I want Patty? I looked at her smiling face and the way her breasts were pushing out her T-shirt. Both those things were telling me I did, but I tried not to listen to that. Sex wasn’t any way to start a relationship.
Then I thought of how she’d been in high school, always smiling at me and always being a little shy. Maybe she always smiled because she did like me. Now, Patty had grown up a lot, and the way she’d talked to me every time we’d met was unconsciously making me like her in a different way from high school. I realized that was why I’d installed her smoke detectors and the reason I’d left my house on a cold night to light her furnace. It was a weird feeling for me, but once I let the thought into my conscious mind, I understood what was really going on.
I put my arms around Patty’s waist.
“No, you haven’t been wasting our time. I just didn’t realize two things - how much you’ve changed and…and how much I like the change…and you.”
Patty pulled her breasts into my chest, kissed me, and then whispered, “Then why don’t you show me how much you like me”.
Patty hadn’t left her bra and panties on the bed. Instead, the spread, blankets and sheet were neatly folded at the foot board. I looked at Patty and grinned.
“Looks like you were expecting this to happen.”
Patty squeezed my hand.
“I was hoping it would. I didn’t want to go to bed alone tonight.”
“I don’t think you’re going to have to.”
Patty raised up her arms so I could pull her T-shirt over her head. When her face came out of the neck, she smiled.
“I’m not as big as Sheila, but I hope you like me anyway.”
I stroked the side of her left breast and smiled when she shivered.
“Patty, you’re beautiful. Does that make you feel better?”
“You haven’t seen the rest of me yet.”
“I’m getting to that, but I don’t think the rest of you is going to change my mind.”
The rest of Patty didn’t change my mind. I untied the drawstring on her sweatpants and then eased them down over her hips, then her thighs, and finally dropped them to her ankles. I cupped her ass cheeks then, and Patty grinned.
“That makes me go crazy.”
“What makes you go crazy?”
“Squeezing my butt cheeks. I have a very sensitive butt.”
“Hmmm…So, if I did this –
I followed the crack of her ass through her panties.
“...it would do something to you?”
Patty giggled and squeezed her ass cheeks together.
“Yeah…it does a lot to me.”
I rolled her panties down her ass and then knelt to pull them down to her ankles. On my way back up, I let my fingertips stroke the inside of her right thigh. Patty caught her breath when my fingers touched her pussy lips. She sort of lurched her body into my hand, and I chuckled.
“Looks like you’re pretty sensitive here too.”
Patty looked up at me, smiled, and stroked my cheek with her fingertip. Her voice was soft and a lot more sensuous than I’d have expected from her.
“Bill, I’m going to be sensitive anywhere you touch me because it’s you touching me. I used to dream about this happening, and now that it is, anything you do is going to excite me.”
We didn’t talk much after that. Patty was reacting to everything I did, and I was amazed at the reactions.
Patty pulled me down on top of her and spread her legs so I could lay between them, then put her arms around my neck and kissed me. If my cock hadn’t already been hard, the zing that raced through me when our tongues touched would have made it hard.
Patty felt my cock head pushing against her hair covered lips and murmured, “Yes, that’s what I need.”
I knew she wasn’t ready for that yet, so I held my weight on my elbows and fondled her breasts. When I kissed her nipples, Patty caught her breath, and then moaned when I licked the tips. Her nipples weren’t very big, but after a few kisses and licks they were stiff and she was beginning to move her pussy up and down against my cock. When the swollen head slipped between her pussy lips, I felt slippery wetness and the ripples of her inner lips.
I kissed her then while I curled my right hand under her hip and when Patty raised her thighs, I slipped a fingertip into her entrance. Patty moaned, then moaned again when that finger went deeper inside her. I felt her pussy open a little, then close around my finger. Patty moaned again, and then murmured, “Oh God, Tom. I want you so bad.”
I’m a little ashamed to say I couldn’t wait any longer. Patty was just too erotic and she was exciting me to the point I couldn’t stop myself from probing between her pussy lips with my cock. I missed the first time and my cock head slipped up and over her clit. Patty gasped and lifted up her hips.
The second time, I found her entrance with my cock and began slowly pushing it inside her. When my cock head slipped past the snug ring just inside her, Patty wrapped her arms around my back and whispered, “I always dreamed it would feel like this. Make me yours, Tom.”
I would never have dreamed Patty could ever be the lover she was that night. The shy, pudgy girl from high school had become a woman not just having sex with me, but a woman who was exciting me as much as I was exciting her. It was her quiet little moans in my ear and then the nuzzling of my earlobe that followed. It was her hands on my ass trying to pull my cock into her deeper. It was the way she was rocking her pussy up into every thrust of my cock. Most of all, it was just her under me and doing her best to keep as much of her in contact with me as she could.
I was getting close, too close to hold back much longer when Patty gasped and then held her breath as she arched up off the bed a little. A second later she fell back down, gasped for breath, and then arched back up again. I felt her nails dig into my ass at the same time she murmured, “Don’t stop Tom, I’m – “
She couldn’t finish what she was saying because she shrieked, dug her heels into the mattress and lifted us both off the bed. I felt her thighs quivering against my sides, and her passage tightening around my cock. A second later, Patty gasped again and then started rocking her pussy over my cock. She was still doing that after I’d groaned and filled her with cum.
When she eased back down, she pulled my face to hers, kissed me, and then whispered, "I know you won’t believe me, Tom, but I love you.”
It took me a while to come to the same conclusion, but I did. It’s funny how that can happen. You think you know somebody and then something changes and you see them in a different light. I knew Patty had changed. What I didn't know was that I’d changed too. In high school, I’d been too busy lusting after the real lookers in the class, and hadn’t had time to really look at Patty. Once I got older and did look at her, she was more than Sheila or Shirley or Rita or Sandy ever thought about being.
When “The Fireman” ended, Tommy played a slow song. I looked at Patty and smiled.
She slipped off her stool and we walked out onto the dance floor. Patty put her arms around my neck and pulled her breasts into my chest. I whispered in her ear then.
“Think after this dance, could we leave? I have a fire to put out.”
“You’re not a fireman anymore. Besides, there’s no fire to put out. If there was, there’d be sirens.”
I cupped her ass cheeks and squeezed. Patty clenched her cheeks together and then tapped the back of my head.
“Stop that. You know it drives me crazy.”
“I know, I’m starting that fire I’m going to put out.”
“Well, you don’t have to start it here. You can wait until we get home.”
I squeezed Patty’s ass cheeks again and then pulled them apart as far as her tight jeans would let me. She clenched them tight again, and then giggled.
“You never give up, go you?”
“I can’t, not with an ass like yours in my hands.”
“After two kids, my butt is too big.”
“Nope. It’s just right - big enough to hold on to and not big enough to get in the way.”
“Get in the way of what?”
“Of what we’re gonna do as soon as we get home.”
Patty leaned back and grinned.
“And just what would that be?”
“We’re gonna repeat that night I lit your furnace.”
“Do I have to turn off my pilot light?”
“I think we’ll skip that part and go right to the bedroom part.”
Patty pulled her breasts into my chest again, and then nuzzled my ear.
“Just promise me one thing.”
“I might need my fire put out twice tonight.”
I grinned and squeezed Patty’s ass again.
“That’s why they call me a fireman, Patty.”