Men of Station 23 [Uniform Fetish 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) by Stacey Espino

Jake from the background. She couldn’t even see him, but for some reason his voice made her body fire to life. Every cell became a hot wire screaming out for stimulation.
    She slipped off the truck, and Conall helped her to her feet since it was a big drop to the concrete floor. They watched her expectantly, their bodies beaded with moisture. She blatantly studied their ripped bodies, the same ones she’d drooled over for months. Now they were hers for the taking. From her vantage point, she noted Darius had a massive hard-on, his cock outlined in his pants, a diagonal marking of his readiness to fuck her. She couldn’t even imagine one of these firefighters wanting a plain thing like her. It was unreal.
    Aaron nodded to the zipper of her jeans. She believed them when they said they would cut the clothes off her body. These were the type of men that got things done, whether using the jaws of life or demanding a woman’s obedience. Already she stood in her bra, four sets of eyes able to see her ample cleavage and most of her breasts through the lacy material. The fact they treated her like one of their emergency victims turned her on even more. She was all for their kinky game.
    “Off, darlin’.”
    She proceeded to peel the damp denim over her hips and down her thighs. Her panties matched her bra, something she rarely bothered to care about. Normally, she’d grab whatever was clean in her drawer. It was the dark place inside of her that hoped something would spark between her and one of the men, and here she was being hit on by all four. Was this the mentality of all firefighters? Or were these four men so close they truly did do everything together, as Aaron had teased about when she arrived?
    They surrounded her like wolves to a helpless lamb. But this was exactly what she secretly hoped would happen. She stood in the large garage, so exposed and vulnerable. This was the craziest, most titillating thing she’d ever done. It all felt so natural—the banter, the kiss, the touches, the sexual demands. She’d follow wherever these men led her.
    “Will you look at that,” said Conall. “Her skin’s so milky white and soft. I just want to bury my face in her little pussy.”
    Her jaw dropped a bit. He spoke so crudely, but at the same time, it made her hotter. Made her imagine all the dirty things he’d gladly do to her body. Most of her exes worked in offices, used to behaving in a politically correct way—even in the bedroom. These were real men. Rough, no mercy, no apologies. Her pussy throbbed, desperate to know what it would feel like to have one of their thick, impressive cocks filling her, sating her needs.
    “I’ll fuck her right here in the truck bay,” said Aaron. He moved in first, cupping her ass and grinding her against his erection. His cock felt harder than the concrete she stood on.
    Her breasts were squeezed against his chest, forcing her lace bra to scrape her sensitive nipples. She smoothed her hands down his arms, savoring every curve of muscle on her descent. “I thought I needed emergency care,” she whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the music which was now on a low, repeating beat, the bass reverberating in her cunt. How had she locked up such powerful yearnings before today? Tammy never thought of herself as a sexual being. But she just needed the right men to bring her out of her shell.
    “You’ll get it, sweet thing.” He lowered his dirty-blond head and suckled her neck. The connection, his hot mouth against her erogenous zone, made her world spiral in a whirlwind of sensation. Was that a new set of hands on her? One of them cupped her breasts from behind, making her gasp. Her knees felt like jelly.
    “Are you wet for us, Tamara?” Darius was at her side, slipping his rough hand down the softness of her stomach toward the hem of her panties. She braced herself for his intimate touch. Too many hands. Not enough. Her blood pressure pounded in her ears, rivaling the