Authors: Miranda Forbes
Fire Down Below
by Landon Dixon
You see plenty of wildlife from a hundred-foot-high fire tower. Especially with a pair of high-powered binoculars.
I was manning Tower #2 in the national park one fine, sunny morning, sweeping the treetops with my glasses for any hot spots, when I flashed on to some wild life that soon turned yours truly into one raging inferno. Two camping girls engaged in an early morning skinny dip.
Nothing too unusual, I thought initially. But as a Park Ranger fully trained in water safety, and legally constituted to enforce the ordinance on public nudity, I felt it my duty to monitor the situation; make sure the two women didn't get into any trouble, or cause too much. So I zoomed in on the bobbing water nymphs, pulling them right up into my cloud-scraping platform with the powerful lenses.
They were up to their necks in the sparkling blue wet stuff, but I could tell they were buff by their bare shoulders â not a swimsuit strap or bikini string in sight. One girl was a blonde, the other a brunette. They both had pretty faces, the blonde, blue eyes and a diamond stud in her right nostril, the brunette, brown eyes and the plushest pair of lips I'd ever ogled from distance.
They were laughing and yelling and splashing water at one another, enjoying nature in the raw; as I enjoyed their raw, playful natures. And telepathically urged them to move into shallower waters â where my hungry eyes could feed more fully.
But then something even more dramatic happened, something that will be burned into my memory for ever, like the first time I met Smokey the Bear. The brunette dipped her head down and dove underwater. And then the blonde suddenly burst up out of the water and into the air, propelled skyward by her mischievous playmate, breaking the surface bare and glistening and big, big busted!
My eyeballs almost popped the glass lenses. Blondie's tremendous sun-burnished, tan-lined breasts flung up into the clear, blue heavens like twin Free Willys, water streaming off their velvety skins, pink nipples snouting up and out, poking holes in the sunshine. Until gravity did its worst and they and she flopped back down into the water with a heavy splash, swallowed up by the lucky lake once again.
I took a step back, tingling all over, a tree growing up in my Ranger-issue khaki shorts. Then I gave my dizzied head a shake and screwed the spyglasses back into my eye sockets. And was hit between the peepers by another thunderous set of breasts â the brunette's this time. She'd discovered the sandbar in the middle of the lake and climbed aboard, baring herself to the watching world from the waist up, showing off a pair every bit as breathtakingly large as her blonde gal-pal's, only tanned all over.
My legs buckled. My mouth and eyes watered, wooden pole tenting my shorts like the horniest of happy campers.
This was a fire tower once-in-a-lifetime observation too good to pass up without the proper acknowledgement. So, violating every rule of decorum in the Park Service book, I unzipped and pulled my log out into the open, commenced rubbing like a Jack London character desperate to build a fire.
Just in time, too. Because now Blondie had joined her breast-bud on the sandbar, both girls bare-chestedly exposed to the warm sunshine and my perverted, prying eyes. They danced around kicking water at each other, giggling and shrieking, boobs flopping and flapping, nipples bouncing.
My binoculars bounced right along, capturing the latticework of tiny blue veins all around the blonde's shockingly pink areolas, the satiny-white, untanned skin that was normally hidden by a swimsuit almost blinding me. I swung over to encompass and count the pebbles on the brunette's enormous, caramel-coloured nipple halos, to survey the entire gleaming, golden expanses of her breasts. All the while stroking and stroking and stroking my hardwood.
The binoculars shook in my right hand, as my cock stretched in my left. And then we hit Code Red on the Fire Warning Chart. As Blondie splashed over to the brunette and fell into her arms. And the two women stopped playing around and started fooling around.
They gazed into each other's eyes, their bodies and boobs pressed hotly together. Their slickened heads moved forward, arms squeezing tighter, until their wettened lips touched, stuck.
I had to wring the head of my cock like the neck of a chicken, to keep from exploding. Even Old Faithful would've blown early exposed to the blistering sight of those two freshwater mermaids lip and tit-locked together in a lovers' embrace.
I ogled the scorching scenery for all I was worth, not giving a damn if the whole picturesque, Congress-protected park went up in flames on my watch. And when Blondie caressed the side of her girlfriend's blossomed-out breast, stroking and rubbing the shining skin, I just couldn't hold back any longer. I had a raging fire down below and only one way to douse it.
“Come-bombs away!” I yowled at the smooching sirens, cock going off in my jerking hand.
White-hot semen jetted out of my cap and sailed clear over the metal railing, splashing down a hundred feet in the forest below, the whole tower shaking right along with me. I struggled to keep the jumping binoculars trained on the bussing, bumper-to-bumper babes, as I fisted like crazy, saluting their beauty and boldness with blast after blast.
Until, finally, they broke laughingly apart, just as the last of my seed soiled the earth down under. Holding hands, they plunged back into the deep water, submerging themselves and their, and my, lust in the warm liquid again.
I sank to my knees, totally devoid of warm liquid.
It took me a full minute to recover. Then I zipped up and then down, riding the tower ladder steel railings to the ground like I was sliding down a hundred-foot fire pole. Abandoning my post was the grossest dereliction of duty, especially with Big Betty, the arse-busting supervisor, due for inspection at any time. But this was a personal emergency of the highest urgency.
I piled into the Park jeep and burned pine needle, speeding out to the secluded beach where the hootered hotties freely frolicked offshore. And in five minutes flat-out, I was tumbling out of the rolling vehicle and racing over the grassy dunes that led to the water's edge.
Skidding to a stop at the shoreline, I was just in time to get another sizzling eyeful, up-close and in-person this time.
The girls were swimming around in the glittering water, and floating around. Plump, boisterous buns flashing edible enough to sink your teeth into when they paddled; ripe, round breasts and rubbery nipples bobbing luscious enough to wrap your hands and mouth around when they floated. I watched the erotic water ballet, cock pumping up again, kernels in my nut sack popping.
And just before the girls caught on to my presence, I managed to gather up my senses enough to gather up their clothing strewn all over the beach and toss the whole bundle behind a bush. Then I pulled out my whistle and blew taps on their skinny dipping.
“OK, ladies, out of the water!” I bellowed. Then held my breath.
They stared at me and my uniform. Then started swimming, splashing, crawling towards me, using the water to blanket their bodies.
“This is a family camping area,” I croaked, when they were a mere twenty feet away from where I stood on shaky ground.
“Sorry,” the blonde said sweetly. “We were just having a little fun.”
The brunette nodded, grinning. “Yeah, we just got kind of carried away, I guess.” She glanced over at her girlfriend, and they both giggled. “Could you throw us our clothes, please?”
I looked around â elaborately â but just couldn't seem to find their duds anywhere.
“Drat, someone must've stolen them,” the blonde lamented. “You didn't happen to see any perverts lurking around here, did you, sir?”
Not without a mirror I didn't. Then added out loud, “I'll drive you ladies back to your campsite, and you can get dressed there.” I didn't bother offering them any of the blankets we keep in the jeep.
They looked at each other, at the pressure-bulge in my khakis that was impossible to hide. And then they rose up out of the water.
I gazed at the dripping wet goddesses like the Greeks must've gazed at the Venus de Milo unveiled. Their breasts bumped and swayed, jounced and shimmied, as they waded towards me. And they were as bare below-the-waist as above; the both of them sporting strip-shaved pussies winking with moisture. My boggled eyes bounced back and forth between the pair like I was refereeing a game of nude beach volleyball.
“I'm Stacey,” the blonde said, four feet, and thirty-eight chest inches, away from me; naked as my lust. “And this is my friend, Holly.”
“P-park R-ranger P-phil,” I stammered.
Holly lifted up her arms and arched her slightly chunky body, stretching, pushing her breasts out into the neighbouring state almost. “Mmmm, that sun feels sooo good,” she purred. “And the water, too. We just couldn't help ourselves, Park Ranger Phil.”
Stacey nodded, hugging herself around her ample waist and sighing, rocking from side-to-side. Her forearms all but disappeared, boobs swinging like overripe fruit on the vine. “You're not going to arrest us, are you, Park Ranger Phil?”
I didn't, couldn't respond for a moment, hypnotized by the pendulum motion of her breasts. “Huh? Uh no, no,” I snapped back to life. “Usually I just issue a warning, or a small fine.”
“Oh,” Stacey cooed.
“That's fair,” Holly breathed.
Sweat trickled down my palms and forehead, my cock throbbing in time to my racing pulse. As we all stood there looking at one another under the glaring sun.
Until Stacey suddenly strolled right up to me and touched the insignia on my left shoulder, her right breast reaching out and touching my bare arm, all warm and soft, rigid nipple pressing into corded forearm. “Could you possibly just let us go with a warning, Phil?” she asked.
Holly hit me up from the other side, running a finger along my hat brim, rack rising like buoys on a wave to swamp my right arm. “We'll be good girls from now on, Phil. We promise.”
They crowded in on me, sandwiching me in sweet, splayed sensuality. I couldn't spit out a single word, my Ranger training useless in this unanticipated, but highly fantasized, situation. The wicked heat and flower-petal smoothness of the girls' boobs against my skin made my face burn and blood boil, like I'd taken a skinny dip of my own â in the hot springs. I was caught between the naughty, busty bathers, with no possible thought of escape.
And then Holly kissed me on the right cheek, Stacey on the left, their pressing breasts kissing the breath right out of me.
“You like our boobs, don't you, Phil?” Stacey whispered into my burning red ear.
“I-I love them!” I blurted, ablaze.
Holly laughed, wobbling her breasts and me. Then hissed, “Show us!”, and grabbed my hat and flung it away, grabbed my bare head and pulled it down onto her chest.
She buried my fiery face between her pillowy boobs and I went limp as a noodle, held up only by her tits pressed against my cheeks. I could muster only enough strength to lick â straight ahead at the girl's breastbone, side-to-side at her tit-walls.
Then I was suddenly out. And gasping for breath. Then back in again, between Stacey's breasts this time. She buried me almost to the neckline in her hot, damp, velvety cleavage, and I tongued her like I had Holly, my lungs burning, cock stretching the fibre of my shorts to the tearing point.
Then Stacey popped me out in a gush of saliva and pent-up air. And Holly slapped my face with her thunder-tits â one cheek, the other cheek â batting my empty head to and fro. Then Stacey, the girls working their boobs like padded love paddles, playfully pinballing my noggin back and forth. I never wanted the game to end.
Until Holly shoved one of her honey-dipped nipples into my open, drooling mouth, and I latched on with my lips like a hungry child home to his wet nurse. She moaned and jerked me closer, gagging me on the fat, chewy protuberance. Then she popped the one thick stem out of my mouth and the other in.
The girls lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, tits-to-tits. And I went excitedly up and down the line, sucking on Holly's right nipple, her left, Stacey's right jutter, her left, back again. Gorging myself on the meaty buds, pink and tan and taut and so very succulent. On my knees in the warm sand, scuttling back and forth like a crazed crab, the girls with their boobs hanging down for my mouth-milking pleasure.
I put my tongue into action, swirling it all around and over Holly's wide areolas, lapping the pink pebble of Stacey's pretty halos. I lifted my leaden arms and grasped their breasts, squeezing, kneading, working the rich, baby-bottom-smooth flesh. As I anxiously licked and lapped at their stiffened nipples, spurred on by their moans of approval.
Eventually, they pulled me to my feet. Then went down into the sand on their knees. They propped their spit-slathered breasts up and offered them to my lower half, smiling encouragingly at me. I had my cock out and splitting cleavage in a flash.
I plunged in between Holly's boobs, prick gliding slippery-smooth up against her breastbone. She promptly sealed her bustage around my dong, and I pumped my hips, fucking her tits. My dick was a blazing iron heat-sealed between mounds of stifling flesh, pistoning back and forth, oiled by the water and perspiration in the girl's golden cleavage.
Then I popped out and in between the beaming Stacey, grabbing her plump hands grasping the sides of her overplump boobs and urgently fucking her tit-tunnel. She met my peek-a-booing purple hood with the tip of her moist, pink tongue, my balls slapping against her breasts, boiling dangerously.
Back and forth I went between the two well-endowed and more-than-willing-to-share women, sliding up and in and churning hard, my cock a numbed slab of meat pile-driving soft and sucking cleavage. I ploughed their tits in a frenzy, frantically groping shuddering breast-meat, sweating rivers and straining every muscle in my body, the sun beating down on the incendiary scene for all the like-minded animals of the forest to see, for all I cared. Smokey with his shovel upside my head couldn't have stopped me just then.