got hired to shoot the firehouse calendar. like the whole thing. twelve months of guys in turnout gear looking heroic. the station manager was like we’re doing this for the charity and i was like sure i can do that. what i didn’t know was that station 9 is basically a gym with a truck attached.
showed up 7am monday morning. three guys. captain marcus who has grey at his temples and has to be like forty-five. lieutenant (just call me j) who’s got this relaxed dominance thing going on. and this guy diesel who is apparently nicknamed that because of his metabolism which is insane. they’re all massive. like actually huge. like the kind of huge that makes you realize you’re small in a way that’s not unpleasant.
“okay,” i said. trying to be professional. “we can do this outside. get some natural light. beach setting maybe.”
they did not want to do that.
“engine bay is better,” marcus said. he had a coffee in one hand. wasn’t even looking at me. “we’ll do it by the truck. natural light comes in through the bay doors. and it’s already noon. we don’t want you out here dying in the heat.”
the engine bay is basically an airplane hangar with a fire truck in it. loud. echoey. them flexing in front of the truck while i’m clicking shots and trying not to stare at the way diesel’s shoulders literally don’t fit between the bolts on the door. which was hard. they kept making jokes. diesel would flex and then un-flex and j would go “damn you broke it” very serious like the muscle was actually broken and marcus would laugh this deep laugh from his chest.
they were having fun. but also.
they were showing off for me.
i noticed. they noticed me noticing. nobody said anything about it for like four hours. we got through eight months of calendar in that time (may through december skipping june for whatever reason). they’re good at this. good at looking serious for the camera and then grinning right when the light hits. good at the flexing thing where it looks natural and not performative. good at angles. like they’ve done this before which apparently j and diesel have at the gym.
around 3pm the manager dipped out. said the station had a run. said he’d be back later. left the three of us. alone. in the engine bay.
we were supposed to do september through december but also i had to get some shots with the turnout gear off. like shirtless photos. artistic. for shine. and they were like yeah we should probably get oiled up for those. for the light. for shine. which. okay. fine. that’s normal photography. that’s a normal thing photographers ask for. we got some coconut oil from somewhere (j brought it from his truck which is) and diesel was rubbing it on marcus’s shoulders and j was already shirtless and getting oil down his chest and i was trying to be professional and also my hands were shaking.
“you okay?” j said. just looking at me. not even doing anything. just standing there oiled up and looking at me.
“yeah. fine. great. natural light is…” i trailed off. the light wasn’t the issue.
“coming down weird?” j said. he had this smile. “we could close the bay doors. better control. better ambience.”
“inside?”
“bay doors close. we can control the light exactly.” diesel said. he was oiling his own arms now. very casual. very deliberate. “better for the photo.”
marcus didn’t say anything. but he wasn’t looking at me. which was worse. he was very carefully not looking at me.
they closed the bay doors. the light changed. softer. more golden.
they were all oiled up now. gleaming like they’d just come out of the shower. and diesel was like “we gotta get shots of the bumper i think. climb on. show that ladder position” and so j got on the bumper of the engine (it’s massive, chrome bumper, taller than me) and diesel got behind him pushing on his shoulders to show off his back in the light and i was taking shots except i wasn’t. i was photographing diesel’s hands on j’s shoulders and j’s back curved and diesel’s arms and the way the oil caught light on their skin.
“what about you?” i said to diesel. hearing my own voice like it was coming from somewhere else. somewhere brave.
diesel climbed down. they swapped. j behind him. both of them oiled up and shining and j’s chin resting on diesel’s shoulder and i realized my breathing had changed. my lens fogged.
“come here,” j said. directly at me. like a command.
i came. walked over like i was moving through water.
the bumper was cold and metal under my ass when diesel put me on it. they were warm and slick with oil. j was behind me immediately and diesel was in front and nobody asked because there was no point. they already knew. i already knew.
diesel’s cock was right there. thick and already hard. he was looking at me and waiting and j had his hand on my hip.
“can we?” diesel said anyway. which was sweet. which broke my heart a little.
“yeah,” i said. “yeah go ahead.”
diesel’s cock was right there in front of my face. i wrapped my hand around the base. he was warm and thick and when i took him into my mouth j was pulling my shirt off.
lube appeared. coconut oil. warm. j slicked his fingers and one pushed inside me and i gagged on diesel and diesel groaned and held my head gentle and j was working me open and i was sandwiched between them and the engine bay smelled like metal and oil and coconut and them and sweat and i was losing my mind.
“okay?” j said. asking for consent like he gave a shit. which he did. which made it better and worse.
“mmpf,” i said which was definitely yes.
he pushed in and it was a lot. two big guys and me in the middle getting fucked front and back. j’s thick cock stretched my tight hole from behind, burying his shaft balls-deep into my ass with heavy, rhythmic thrusts, while diesel’s fat dick filled my mouth all the way to the back of my throat. diesel was holding my shoulders, hips bucking as he pumped his cock between my lips, saying dirty things about what a good girl i was and how tight my ass was gripping j’s dick. drool and pre-cum ran down my chin, my body rocking back and forth between them on the chrome bumper, knees shaking. just their toy. just what they wanted.
diesel came first. he drove his cock deep into my throat, his thighs locking as he erupted, pumping thick ropes of hot cum over my tongue. i swallowed every pulse of his load while j kept slamming hard into my ass from behind, his hips slapping my ass cheeks in wet, violent cracks.
when diesel pulled his dripping dick from my mouth, j just kept going. he grabbed my hips with bruised fingers, angling his cock to grind right against my prostate until my vision went white. he was going harder, faster, his balls slapping against my thighs, and i couldn’t breathe and didn’t care. my hands were white-knuckled on the engine bumper.
“swap?” j grunted, breathing like a furnace.
diesel took over from behind, lining his slick cock up with my gaping, cum-slick hole and sliding in balls-deep in one long, brutal push, while j stepped around front, shoving his swollen head past my lips. the different angle stretched me completely. diesel hammered my ass from behind with deep, relentless strokes, while j held the back of my head, pumping his shaft into my throat. they worked me in tandem, rhythmically back and forth, until the engine bay echoed with the wet sounds of their cocks driving into my body.
j came first this time, shooting a heavy stream of cum straight down my gullet, and seconds later diesel groaned, driving his cock to the hilt as he filled my ass with a massive, pulsing load. i was completely stuffed, leaking hot cum from both ends, trembling on the bumper while the camera phone kept rolling.
we sat there. the concrete cold under my knees. them oiled up and sweaty and me covered in them and coconut oil and nobody moving. the truck looming over us. the light starting to fade because it was getting late.
“we’re keeping you for all twelve months,” diesel said eventually. very serious.
“yeah lol no,” j said. “this is december material. this one.” he pointed at me still on my knees. “we’re adding december. we’re filming this. we’re keeping it.”
“what month am i then?” i said very intelligently while my brain was still offline.
“july,” marcus said. he’d been here the whole time. not just here. filming. i hadn’t even noticed. “these two are april. you’re july. the calendar gets the one from before. you on the bumper with your shirt off. the rest stays on my phone.”
he showed me later. when we all had clothes on and i could think. the july shot is me on the chrome bumper, shirt off, oil on my chest, mouth a little open like i just heard something. you can’t tell from the picture. you can tell if you know.
the rest of the roll he airdropped me. i’ve watched it more times than i’m going to say.
they did print it.
it’s in the calendar.
july.
i got paid for the whole gig.
i also got both their numbers.
the photo of me is stuck above my desk at home. my roommate asked what it was and i just said it was work. which is technically true. very technically.
july looks good. i look good. they look amazing. especially together.
i’ll probably go back when they call. can’t see why i wouldn’t.
i’m their photographer apparently.
also their july.
