Oh my God, what was wrong with me? Sexy? Bulging arms? Was I really attracted to Drew?
As soon as the thought crossed my mind, a shiver ran through my pussy and I realized I was attracted to him.
It shouldn’t have surprised me. He was a sexy firefighter, after all. Sure, he was a self-important prick but it was not his body’s fault that his attitude was insufferable. I slipped a hand in between my legs and sighed when it reached its destination.
There was no harm in having a little fun. I was thinking about his body, not his attitude. In fact, I decided to think only about his body, not his face. I hadn’t even seen his body out of his clothes, so this was almost completely make-believe. I could think of anyone’s face on top of that body. I didn’t need to imagine Drew’s chiseled features, his thick beard, or his piercing dark eyes.
“Oh, Drew,” I moaned.
No, dammit!
I stood up and quickly undressed. By the time I reached the shower, I was naked and damned sick of thinking about that man. I turned the water to the coldest setting before stepping inside. I gasped when the water hit me and forced myself to remain under the stream for as long as I could stand it. When it was too much, I step outside and towel off. The cold shower did the trick and I no longer felt an inexplicable urge to masturbate to the image of the man I hated most in this world.
I dressed in pajamas and a t-shirt and turned the tv on to my favorite soap opera. I settled down with a bowl of ice cream and a bottle of wine and prepared for yet another evening of single fun.
I couldn’t stand that man! Ever since he moved in with his stupid dog, my quiet peaceful life had become an incessantly annoying cacophony of barking, loud truck engines, and almost constant visits from his equally loud fireman friends.
I went to bed with a frown on my face and lulled myself to sleep with images of watching animal control cart Drew’s mutt away while he wept and begged for mercy. Then, the images changed and Drew’s face looked down on me with a hell of a lot of lust as he fucked me. Then, it was animal control again and I imagined a celebratory dinner with a nicer bottle of wine than the one I wasted on soap operas, grilled salmon with asparagus, and mashed potatoes. I could almost smell the salmon grilling as I slept.
No, I could really smell it.
I frowned and realized I was awake and the smell I smelled wasn’t salmon grilling.
I jumped out of bed and saw an orange glow coming from downstairs.
Oh my God. My house was on fire.