A few days later, my fireman called and wanted to come by.
I had treated myself to the cassette of a Keith Jarrett concert recorded in Germany and had been listening to it on my boom box over and over again. It probably would have sounded a whole lot better on vinyl, but that would require replacing the stereo that had been ripped off the January before. The music was melancholy without being depressing. It was playing when Hank got there.
Brian thought I was still in love with my ex. He'd said so in a letter he taped to my door; a goodbye letter that explained, from his perspective, why things hadn't worked out between us. Maybe he's right. Or maybe I've just lost the taste for love. Love isn't always a good thing. Sometimes it makes a mess of people's lives. Still, I was excited that Hank was there. He'd been a stand-up guy, letting me know what the cops were trying to do. So I was thinking, who knows, maybe love isn't so bad. Actually, it might even be fun.
When I answered the door, Hank stood there all decked out like he was on his way to fighting a fire, except for the gym bag he held in one hand. He tipped his helmet at me and said, 'You want to show me where the hot spots are?'
I chuckled and led him into my apartment. We didn't get past the living room before he dropped his gym bag and was on me. I kissed him and tried to feel him through the thick, canvas-like material of his jacket, but it was too heavy. The whole outfit was yellow, with reinforced patches and large pockets. He wore a pair of heavy, black, rubberized boots. I reached up to take his helmet off, and he stopped me, 'Oh, no, you don't.'
He pushed me into one of my director's chairs and then stepped back so I could get a good view of him. First, he slowly pulled off the heavy gloves that protected his hands. Then, one by one, he unclasped the hooks on his jacket. As it fell open, I got a glimpse of skin. Not surprisingly, he was naked under his outer gear. I wondered if that was regulation.
He dropped the jacket to the floor. Suspenders held up his pants. Obviously, they had weights at the firehouse, and Hank spent time using them. His chest was big, with pectoral muscles like slabs of meat. His upper arms were huge. Even his forearms were big. He lifted a foot and put his boot in my lap. 'Pull.' I pulled. The boot popped off in my hand. He put his other foot in my lap. I have to say that his striptease was a little odd, since it was being accompanied by improvisational jazz piano. But that didn't seem to dampen his enjoyment. Or, for that matter, mine.
Hank dropped one suspender over his impressive shoulder. Then the other. He unbuckled his pants. I waited for them to fall, but they only slid down a few inches. The material was so thick the pants could stand on their own. Finally, he pushed them down to the floor.
His large thighs squeezed together naturally, and his cock popped out in front of them. He stepped out of his pants and knelt in front of me. Quickly, he undid my jeans and pulled them down to my knees. He popped my dick into his mouth and sucked me with the same enthusiasm he'd shown in the car. I rested a hand on his helmet as he bobbed up and down.
I leaned back and closed my eyes. I concentrated on the feeling of my dick sliding in and out of his mouth. Suddenly, it stopped. Hank stood up and took a few steps backward. He got on the floor on top of his gear. 'Come here.'
I stood up and wiggled out of my pants. I pulled my T-shirt over my head. Naked, I joined him on the floor. He kissed me deeply, shoving his tongue in and out of my mouth. 'I want you to fuck me.'
I didn't need to be asked twice. I started to get up and go for the Vaseline, but he stopped me by pulling me back down. 'It's okay. I'm ready.'
I wasn't sure what he meant at first, but when I lifted his legs into the air and went to stick my cock in, I found that he'd already lubed himself up.
'I like a man who comes prepared,' I said.
He smiled and inhaled sharply as I pushed all the way into him. His cock was nice and rigid as it flopped around on his belly. Hooking his feet around my neck, he lifted his ass up to meet me. 'Oh, God, yes.'
I pounded into him again and again. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I wrapped my hands around his thick thighs and pulled him to me. Hank approached getting fucked with the same enthusiasm he had giving out a blowjob. However, while he'd seemed a bit inexperienced with oral sex, he was either very experienced with fucking or a complete natural. Each time I thrust into him, his hips came up to meet me.
Bucking and twisting beneath me, his helmet soon came off and rolled around on the floor near his head. I reached around his leg and started jacking him off. His prick was rocket-shaped, with a thick stalk tapering down to a smaller head.
I was close, but I wanted him to come first. Closing my eyes, I tried counting backward from a hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight. Ninety-seven. Suddenly, his ass clamped down on my cock, and he was coming all over my fist. I let go and came deep inside of him.
Collapsing on him, I lay there sweaty and sticky with his come. 'That was incredible.' I murmured. I kind of liked this guy and was beginning to hope he'd be coming around a lot.
'Do you mind if I take a shower?' he asked. 'I can't go home covered in spunk.'
And then I realized how little I knew about Hank.
'Who's at home?'
'Wife and kids.'
'Ah,' I said. 'Yeah, go ahead. Take a shower.'
'You wanna join me?'
'I'm fine, thanks.'