Chief had first noticed him when they did the Smithson 4th of July parade. The boy was small, slender, Hispanic with a dark complexion and jet black hair and dashing eyes, also, with an easy smile and a “gosh-died-and-gone-to-heaven” look as the fire trucks rolled by with the firemen all decked out in their firefighting equipment and hanging off the sides of the hook and ladder truck. He was likely, in Chief’s eyes, one of the homeless boys of the area. Because of the interest of Chief and the other guys who had signed up at the firehouse from similar interest, he gave the boy a second look. After the parade, Chief went into the firehouse and to the computer desks in the upstairs area set aside for the firemen to relax, eat when they were on watch duty, sleep when necessary, and share their interest in computer use.
The next day Chief saw him again, standing outside the firehouse, waiting patiently for a call that would bring the trucks out. An hour later, Chief looked again, and the boy was still there, sitting on the curb. Chief was the only one around for the next couple of hours, as the rest of the day crew was off at a practice tower performing an exercise.
The boy looked familiar. It was only after searching his brain that Chief realized he’d seen him out at the Loredo Ranch--a place where men went to meet other men and younger teens, as they were interested, and maybe to get a little action. Most of the guys at the firehouse liked to go out there. They shared an interest in the younger boys, especially fourteen-year-old boys, which is the age this boy hanging around the firehouse appeared to be.
The firefighters were comfortable with each other--having the same interests bonded the men into a good firefighting team. It was what the guys liked perusing on the firehouse computers and, when they had a real itch to scratch, what took them, together, out to the Loredo Ranch. The men of this firehouse were considered the best in the region. They all kept in good shape, which encouraged appreciating the bodies of other men and developing early teens, and they backed each other well--and you could say they backed each other up real close. But there was no particular need for the other firehouses to know why they jelled as well as they did.
For the life of him, however, Chief couldn’t remember in what capacity he’d seen the Hispanic boy at the ranch. Chief certainly hadn’t paid for time with the boy there and some of the younger guys at the ranch were just servants. He would have been happy to pay for time with the boy, though. He was a real sweet piece of tail. And those doe eyes of his. Chief ducked back into the firehouse and continued the inventory he was taking of the equipment--a job he performed every three days to make sure that everything was right there where it might be needed in an emergency.
Chief fantasized about latching his eyes onto those of the young Hispanic’s while he was fucking him--watching the change of expression on the boy’s face when he realized that he was being mined deeper than usual and that the man riding him had the stamina to fuck him into the ground. Firefighting made a MAN of a developing man. Chief liked to watch for the point at which the teen he was fucking realized that--and realized that he was in for one royal fucking.
An hour later and the boy was still there. Chief thought that showed a remarkable stamina itself, as the day was scorching hot and the Hispanic boy had been out in the sun for hours just from the time Chief had first seen him.
So Chief went out into the drive and approached him.
“I’m just watching,” the boy said as Chief came closer. “I make no trouble. I just like to watch.”
“No problem,” Chief said.
“Really, I stay to sidewalk. I make no trouble.”
Again Chief said, “No problem. Really. I’m just afraid you’ll fry out here. You want to come in and get a drink of water?”
“Me? Come into the firehouse?” The boy was incredulous.
“Yes, come in and get out of the hot sun for a bit. Do you like firehouses, firefighting equipment? What’s your name?”
“They call me Tiago. I am Santiago, but Tiago for short is OK to call me.”
“I’m Chief,” Chief said. “That means I’m in charge here, and if I ask you in for a drink of water, there’s no one to tell me I can’t.”
“You are kind. Yes, please. Thank you.”
They started to walk toward the door next to the bay truck windows that were now closed. Chief guided the boy with a hand on his upper arm, and he could feel Tiago trembling at the touch.
“I think I’ve seen you ... out at the Loredo Ranch.” Chief said it to try to make the boy less skittish, more comfortable. He could feel he was intimidating the teen. Chief was a man and a half himself. All of the firemen were. Most of the time they weren’t out on call, they were working out in the gym at the back of the truck bays. They had to be strong and agile to do what they had to do.
But the boy was still trembling. “Maybe. You go to the Loredo Ranch?”
“Yes, we all do here. It’s part of keeping our edge--keeping in shape and calming our nerves. It’s a tense job, you know. What do you do out at the ranch?”
Tiago hesitated, but then he said, “I live on the streets. When I go out there, I do what I have to do to pay for my meals.” He paused and looked at Chief for a long moment. “Maybe you want me to go ... to stay away from the firehouse now?”
“No, Tiago, I would be happy for you to come into the firehouse now.”
The boy said nothing. But Chief could see he was processing it. And Chief didn’t want to withdraw his hand even when they entered the cool interior. Tiago was turning him on. He liked the little guys, and although Tiago was a good third the size of Chief, he was a very nice little piece. And those eyes alone were making Chief go hard.
“I am not so old. I’m just fourteen,” Tiago said, still holding back a bit. Being completely open and honest with Chief on what was what. Chief continued ushering the boy into the shade of the building.
“That’s great. That’s a very good age. You like firehouses, Tiago?” he asked as the Hispanic boy drank first one glass of water and then another and then another.
He hadn’t looked like he was sweltering out there, but Chief could see that he was having a lot of trouble quenching his thirst.
“I don’t know. Maybe. We don’t have them where I come from.”
“I saw you at the parade yesterday. You looked like you liked the equipment--the hook and ladder truck and the red water truck.”
“Yes, maybe. They were nice.”
Chief was perplexed. Tiago had looked like what he was seeing was way beyond just “nice.”
“It was the firefighting equipment you came to see, wasn’t it, Tiago?”
Tiago hesitated. And then he hung his head low and said, “It was more the men--in their fire suits. If you go to Loredo Ranch, I think you must understand.”
“You like seeing the men in their uniform?” Chief asked.
“Si.” Given a bit reluctantly. “Out at the ranch, on the stage, some of the men dance in fire suits. I like watching that best.” And then. “Thank you for the water. I guess today is not a good fire day. I hoped to see the men pulling on their fire suits and racing to fire. My friend, Ricardo, he tells me men come running out of firehouse still dressing in their uniforms, some with almost nothing on.”
Tiago looked up into Chief’s eyes, and Chief could see the arousal deep inside the boy.
“You like to see the firemen half dressed?” Chief asked.
“Si.” Again somewhat reluctantly given.
“And you like to see firemen dressing--and, maybe more, firemen undressing.”
“And you work at the Loredo Ranch, yes?”
“And maybe you like seeing these half-dressed firemen doing things to each other?”
No “si.” Just a shrug and a failure to meet Chief’s eyes with his.
“You see the building above the truck bays, Tiago? That line of windows up there?”
“Do you know what’s up there?”
“That’s where the firemen sleep much of the time. And that’s where they begin to dress. And it’s where they undress. And sometimes it’s where they fuck. As chief I have my own room up there. And I do all those things. All of our fireman like young teen boys too--like you. We like to take them up there and have a good time--like you say you see ... and sometimes do ... out at the Loredo Ranch.”
“Oh.” Chief chose to interpret that as a glimmer or more of interest--and maybe understanding. And if Tiago understood, it was a good sign he wasn’t backing out of the firehouse right about now.
“If I let you see me dress in my firefighter’s gear will you let me see you undressed--and more maybe? If I pay you. You lay with me if I pay you?”
“Me? You want me to lay under you. With you in your fireman’s suit?” Tiago asked.
Chief could see the interest in Tiago’s eyes.
“Come with me, Tiago. The stairs are over here.”
The boy was still trembling and Chief was still holding his arm, guiding him, willing him not to back out now. Because now Chief had an aching hard-on.
Chief asked Tiago to undress first--and Chief was delighted with Tiago’s nicely formed body--and heartened by the teen’s own half hard-on. That was the real gauge of his interest.
Then Chief stripped, giving Tiago a full view of what was waiting for him, and Chief was pleased to hear the intake of the boy’s breath when he saw the length and girth of what Chief had and the bulging muscles that went with the demanding job.
And then Chief began to suit up in his firefighting gear. Tiago stammered a request as he was dressing, though, that Chief not put anything on his upper torso other than the suspenders.
“I like chest. And the hair,” Tiago simply said. But there was a catch in his voice and his cock was at three-quarter staff now when he said it.
There was a full-length mirror in the room, and Chief looked at himself with just the suspenders and the heavy pants and boots, and he couldn’t help thinking, “Damn I look good. This kid knows his fetishes.”