Jennifer Jason Leigh Ain’t Got Nothin’ On Me

When I was sixteen years old I saw the movie Backdraft and instantly became attracted to firefighters. I’m not sure if it was the witnessing of Jennifer Jason Leigh getting nailed on a firetruck, the dirty sweat and heroics involved in the act of firefighting, or the two hits of ecstasy my girlfriend and I ingested prior to viewing, but ever since that night I had dreamt about a firefighter ripping my clothes off and ravaging me inside, outside, and on top of a firetruck.

If I had only known I would finally get to live out something similar to that fantasy in my thirties, I could’ve saved myself a ton of money on late fees to Blockbuster during the two years I spent masturbating to Billy Baldwin.

C’est la vie.

One fateful night during my single mom life, my friend and I headed out to a local bar where she was scheduled to perform with a band she was singing with. It had been months since I’d gone out anywhere and while the thought of drinking appealed to my inner alcoholic, the idea of being harassed by drunk and horny men atop stools did not. But, being a good friend, I went anyway in the hopes of supporting her, and supporting my drinking habit.

Immediately upon arrival, in true blatantly-single fashion, my friend zeroed in on two men who were sitting at the bar alone. I didn’t even have time to get a drink before she sidled up next to them and struck up a conversation, while I stood awkwardly to the side. As she instructed me to sit down next to one of them, who she’d so obviously “picked out” for me, I secretly cursed her. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to this guy, especially before I’d gotten my drink on. A girl like me had priorities. At that point in my life, booze trumped weiner.

For the next thirty minutes I mostly kept to myself, remaining focused on consuming the beer in my hands while the three of them carried on their conversation. I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone right now, especially after the horror stories I’d accumulated during my last year of dating. Even if this guy seemed normal on the outside, chances were he would turn out to be into something freakish like erotic asphyxiation or inflatable objects and I’d had my fill of fetishes with the horse boy.

I tried my best to seem aloof even though I quickly became aware of how cute “my guy” was, with his dark hair and inviting eyes. The more intoxicated I became, the more my attraction to him grew. Eventually I gave in to his verbal advances. Without even realizing it, the invisible wall I’d built between us began to crumble as we chatted for almost an hour.  By the end of our encounter I’d found out that not only was he a seemingly decent man but that he was also a firefighter, at which point it took all of my self control not to pull him into the nearest restroom given my desire to mount a fireman.

Before he left we exchanged numbers and I couldn’t help but hope I‘d see him again. When I got home an hour later I regressed fifteen years, as Billy Baldwin and I were reunited via Netflix and the touch of my hand. After cuming that evening, my fire truck fantasy was renewed with a vengeance and I decided that somehow, somewhere, the fireman would be mine, even if only for one night.

Although I first entered into the relationship hoping for nothing more than some kinky firetruck sex, I ended up growing attached to him. Over the next two weeks, we texted each other constantly. Turned out that not only was the fireman incredibly hot, but he was also a really great guy and I genuinely liked him for more than a hose or the premise of riding his pole. He was funny and charming, ambitious and driven. It seemed like we had many of the same pastimes and values. One of his biggest appeals was that he not only showed an interest in me, but also in my son, something I’d never experienced during my prior adventures in dating as a single mom.

By the time our first official date rolled around, I was torn between my desire to get laid and my longing to fall in love. I’d hooked up with enough men in the last two years to know that sex was just sex unless you developed something more beforehand. I knew what was at stake if I rushed things, but I also knew that the fireman might be my only chance at fulfilling a dream I’d marveled at for nearly half my life. I went into the date that evening with an open mind, an open heart, and half opened legs.

He picked me up and we went to a nice restaurant, where I spent most of dinner entranced by him and his entertaining stories. After half a bottle of wine and forty five minutes of staring at him from across a table, my legs were about ¾ open. At the end of the meal he suggested we head over to the firehouse where he’d give me a tour and let me try on his gear and take pictures. I wasn’t sure if he was just being nice or if he had the same dirty thoughts in his mind as I did. Either or was fine by me and off we went.

When we arrived he offered me a beer and introduced me to one of the other firefighters who was hanging out there with his girlfriend. I found myself wondering if they had come to the firehouse to fulfill their own fantasies. After all, all firefighters were horny in my mind and every woman who dated one was hoping to play Jennifer Jason Leigh in her own pornographic version of Backdraft.

Ten minutes later he grabbed my hand and led me to where they kept the firetrucks. As we walked in I was taken aback at how in awe of them I truly was. I’d never actually been that close to a firetruck or anywhere near a firehouse, so for awhile I actually forgot about wanting to rip off the fireman’s clothes and instead became engrossed in trying on his gear and climbing in and out of the vehicles.

Somewhere between exiting the third truck and ogling the Jaws of Life, the fireman pushed me against one of the engines and kissed me, while I was still wearing all of his gear. Time stood still for at least five minutes as I was totally lost in the moment, until he started to remove my jacket and gently pressed himself against me and I was reminded of where I was and how badly I wanted him.

He helped me out of the rest of his gear and led me to one of the firetrucks towards the back of the bay. He started to give me some speech about the history of it, but I pulled him against me and kissed him hard, letting him know I had no interest in the workings of the firehouse any longer. The only interest I currently had was in him getting me naked and sliding in and out of me somewhere on that firetruck.

Obviously my legs were now wide open.

He led me inside the engine and all my reservations about fucking him went out the window. We kissed for awhile and every second of it only made me hotter with anticipation for what might happen. While I knew he might think less of me for giving it up on the first date, I wanted him so badly I didn’t care. Every time he touched me I moaned, it didn’t matter where. As his hand slipped inside my pants and lingered in between my legs I dripped with eagerness. Fifteen minutes and one orgasm later I was begging him to fuck me.

At first he protested, the gentleman that he truly was, but what he probably didn’t realize was this only made me want him more, throwing me into a complete frenzy. I pressed myself hard against him, feeling that he still wanted me, taking it as an opportunity to unleash my feminine wiles and soon after we found ourselves ripping each other’s clothes off.

As he sat down on one of the seats in the firetruck, I lowered myself on top of him, grinning at the fact that I had finally won. I slipped him inside of me and rode him for a good ten minutes, savoring every moment that I was living out my fantasy. I came once more before he pulled me off of him, bent me over one of the seats and took me from behind, taking charge like any respectable fireman would.

Ten more minutes and a shared orgasm later, our epic engine tryst was over.

Needless to say, someone’s tax dollars were hard at work that evening, leaving my vagina and I with a smile and the memory of a ride on a firetruck that would last us a lifetime. While many might question my morals after straddling the fireman’s lengthy hose, I’ll never regret having sex with him that night. After all, my indiscretion left me with an experience that most women only dream about.

Jennifer Jason Leigh ain’t got nothin’ on me.