It’s summer here and my favourite way to keep fit at this time of year is to swim laps at the local pool.
Yesterday the swimming lane was crowded out by no less than three firemen who had decided to do a few laps while on duty. They parked the fire engine outside and one guy stayed dry and in uniform to mind the radio. It’s a small town, so no callouts happened while they were there.
I was relating this story to a female friend, half complaining about the crowding they caused, when she said:
“Were they hot?”
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I frowned. I pondered. And in the end, I had to shrug my shoulders.
“You know, I didn’t really look.”
Stunned silence.
Yep, that’s right. I forgot to perve at firemen.
And now I feel like I’ve failed in my pornographer’s duty. I mean… Firemen. In Speedos.
And they were wet.
What was I thinking?
They were drying off as I got out. One guy was sitting right where my towel was. I still didn’t look. In fact, I was kind of grumpy because they were in my space.
And then one of them asked me: “And how many laps did you do today, Ma’am?”
He actually called me Ma’am. Nobody does that. Not unless they’re 15 and serving fries.
I told him, and then I moved my stuff away, feeling a bit embarrassed because I had goggle marks on my face, an escaping bikini line and too many freckles from an hour in the pool.
And I still didn’t really look.
I must admit, I’ve never been a big fan of fireman fantasies, but I do know that many women love the idea of being “rescued” by a lovely man in a red uniform.
So, if they’re there tomorrow, I’ll be looking. And I’ll report back.