Anal Awakening: The Fire
Warning! The following story is a work of fiction and contains scenes descriptive of sexual encounters and contact between consenting adults. If you are not of legal age to read stories of this nature or you are offended by the subject matter contained herein do not read any further.
Anal Awakening: The Fire
Jared had been well fucked and both of us were totally exhausted from the ordeal. We had fallen asleep in each other's arms; however, I had yet to experience the pleasure of Jared's hard penis penetrating my anus, filling my anal cavity with his sweet meat. I drifted off to dreamland fantasizing about my lover fucking me savagely while we were off at some remote camp site. Oh God, I dreamed he was drilling me deep. I was screaming for him to fuck me deeper, faster and harder; however, it was only a dream.
Suddenly, my cell phone rang jarring me awake. I lay there for a few seconds in the security of my lover's arms semi awake inhaling the aroma of aging sex that permeated my bedroom not wanting to answer, but knew I had to. My bedroom smelled like a cheap whorehouse; it reeked of raw sex. I drug my exhausted body from the bed to answer the cell phone. The caller was a weekend producer from the television station where I was doing my internship. Her voice was frantic. She was yelling at me to get to the office immediately. I told her I would be there in thirty minutes, she demanded fifteen. I pressed the button ending the call, and then made a beeline for the bathroom to shower, shave, and get dressed. Upon reentering the bedroom Jared was stirring awake, he asked, "What's up?"
"I've been called in to work for some bullshit emergency by the television station. I'll call you later and let you know when I'll be back," I said, putting on my necktie, "If I don't get back in a few hours go ahead and let yourself out and lock the door.
"Okay, Bye baby," Jared said smiling up from the bed.
I slipped my official Channel 5 Fox News blazer on, and picked up my brief case as I dashed out the door. I didn't even take time to give Jared a good-bye kiss before I departed. The sun was just rising as I jumped into my car and sped towards the television station about ten minutes away. As I drove I wondered what was up, being called in on a day off to work; however, as an intern I was at the beckon call of those in authority. I'd never been called in for an unsupervised assignment before; all my intern assignments were planned out well ahead of time by my handlers at the station. As a so called Assistant Producer, I felt more like a glorified gopher many times, I had been told at my initial briefing that I could be summoned to work at anytime without any warning to do anything, if needed, therefore, I had to keep my cell phone and beeper on twenty-four seven.
As I arrived at the station the gate was open and the guard flagged me through. The mobile satellite van was waiting with the engine running. The van was a complete mobile television studio with satellite dish to provide mobile satellite transmission uplinks from remote locations back to the studio. The producer waved me towards the van after I parked and secured my car. She gave me and my camera operator a brief synopsis of the assignment. I was going to be the on air reporter for a breaking news story as no one else was available. My first unsupervised on air field assignment.
We boarded the van and the producer closed the door. She headed back into the television studio. No sooner had we departed the parking area behind the studio than my cell phone rang again; it was the producer updating me about the breaking story. The story was a hostage situation; it seemed that a distraught husband in the next town north was threatening to kill his wife and entire family. The town where the story was unfolding was about thirty minutes up the Interstate. As we drove north the camera operator got his cameras and equipment ready. I continued to get updates from the studio, making notes in my journalist notebook.
Clay my hunky camera operator for the assignment had just graduated with a degree in Media Communication, television broadcasting. I had seen him around the station before and thought that he was a hot item, but surely a total heterosexual. Clay was the junior camera operator for weekend and holiday field assignments, and was usually paired up with one of the weekend reporters and Dave our Broadcast Technician/Driver.
The primary live truck with two senior reporters and camera operators was covering a major breaking story about fifty miles south, so I'd been called in to work with Clay and truck two as the on-site field reporter. The producer back at the television studio was monitoring emergency services radio channels, filling me in as we drove. As we reached the small town where the action was taking place the driver exited the Interstate. A few seconds after we exited the sky ahead lit up in a huge fireball. My camera operator had his smaller video cam going capturing the explosion and fire through the front window of the van.
The van screeched to a halt behind the police line and emergency service vehicles. The three of us bailed out of the van immediately. We showed the uniforms our press credentials and began working. Dave set up the satellite uplink dish while Clay and I raced towards the action. The big two story house was fully engulfed within a couple minutes of the explosion. Firefighters were scrambling around trying to get water on the structure from all sides. The real story that I spotted unfolding as we went live was the Emergency Medical Service folks working on two lifeless young bodies that had been brought to the back of the rescue unit.
A fire is a fire; it burns and consumes things that are flammable. Just not very newsy, but now I spotted what I considered to be the real story. I knew that this was a human interest angle of story; a story about the possible loss of human life, young life. I had to find out just how and why the burned bodies in front of me were involved in a story about a distraught husband killing his wife. I couldn't believe that a father was capable of killing his wife and children then burning their bodies. But the older I got and more involved I became in journalism the more pessimistic I was becoming about our society and life in general. I moved in closer where I could almost make out the gender of burned children. One appeared to be a boy about fifteen and the other a boy about twelve or thirteen, both appeared to be badly burned. They were blackened and covered with soot.
Clay and I were working well together. He was focusing his camera in on the lifesaving procedures being performed by the EMS guys on the two children without being too intrusive while I explained to the viewing audience what was taking place. Everything I was reporting and Clay was capturing with his live camera was being fed back to the television station control room in real time for editing – Breaking News. My prior first aid training enabled me to call in detail the procedures that the EMS crew was carrying out in an attempt to save the lives of the youngsters.
As the drama played out I heard a distant voice tell the paramedics that the life flight helicopter was about ten minutes out. Apparently, the burns and injuries suffered by the children were life threatening and an ambulance ride down the Interstate was out of the question. The boys required the speed of a medical evacuation helicopter if they were to survive, getting the boys to a trauma center within that "Golden Hour" was imperative. I overheard one of the EMS workers tell one of the firefighters to set up the landing zone on the highway as close as possible.
The two paramedics worked feverishly on the younger child to stabilize him, preparing him for transport. The older boy had already been loaded into the ambulance for the ride to the highway landing zone where the helicopter would land to take them to a burn trauma center. I heard the chopper approaching in the distance and watched the EMS medics load the younger other boy inside an ambulance for transport. Once inside the bus one paramedic got into the back while the other closed the doors and got into the driver's seat. I told my cameraman that we should follow the ambulance to the highway so we could capture the unfolding drama. I saw the first chopper land in the distance as we ran to keep up with the ambulance. The first bus was unloading its patient. My adrenalin was pumping; it was like a slow motion scene from the television reality show "Cops" during one of those foot chase pursuits.
Clay kept shooting as we ran while I adlibbed, describing the action. My camera operator was a well-muscled young man who had played football in high school and college. He had been a running back, so he had no problems keeping up with me while he carried the heavy camera on his shoulder. Both of us were part timers at the station. Clay and I were attending the same university; he was beginning his masters, and I would be starting my second full year of college in the fall.
A second chopper landed on the highway further back down the Interstate, but I noticed it was a police helicopter. We continued capturing the story live as the two boys were loaded into the awaiting medical evacuation helio. I turned off the mike to ask the police officer that had gotten out of the second chopper where the two boys were being taken. He told me the location and said that it was going to be a close call to get them to the trauma center within the "Golden Hour." He asked, "You and your cameraman want a ride in the police helicopter to the trauma center to continue covering the story."
"Sure," I said.
The camera operator and I piled into the police chopper, but before we lifted off an older boy about seventeen was put on the helicopter by a police officer and firefighter. He was seated across the cabin from Clay and me. I noticed his arms and hands were bandaged and he was covered in black soot. I asked the lad if he too was a survivor of the fire. He nodded his head in the affirmative. I could see he was crying. Of course, Clay was capturing my conversation close up with the ambulatory lad. As we became airborne the cameraman turned away and kept shooting outside live from the hovering police helio. The fire was almost out and the life flight helio below us was lifting off. As we headed north we lost the live feed with the satellite truck on the ground, so Clay switched to straight audio and video, storing the images and information in the camera. The driver on the ground had broken the satellite dish down and was following us by way of the Interstate to the trauma center.
As Clay concentrated on what was happening on the ground I turned my attention to the boy sitting across from me with his head buried in his bandaged hands sobbing. I moved across the cabin to sit next to him and comfort him. I put my arm around him; he turned and cried into my shoulder as I held him. I wanted to interview the lad, but didn't want to appear too insensitive or intrusive. I thought to myself, I was getting too close to my subject. Clay saw what I was doing and turned the camera back on the two of us as I tried to comfort the boy and also get information for my story.
I knew at that moment I had the lead story of the day that would keep me busy for many hours to come, if I could only manage to keep the assignment as the lead reporter. My gut told me that as soon as one of the older on air reporters got wind of the story I would be replaced; however, I would not give it up with out a fight. The pilot told us that he was going to land in the Wal-Mart parking lot three blocks from the trauma center just off the Interstate. He motioned for Clay to get a shot of the red life flight helicopter landing on the roof of the trauma center. As Clay captured the action on the roof we landed and a police SUV pulled up. The police Lieutenant put the burned boy into the black Suburban, and then to me asking if we wanted a ride to the hospital. We both jumped in and took the short ride to the ER entrance.
Once at the ER the boy was immediately unloaded and put on a gurney. He was whisk away for triage and treatment. I figured I'd never see him again. Before I went inside I had Clay shoot some B-roll footage of the outside of the ER entrance and the name of the hospital, and then went inside. Soon I discovered that both boys airlifted in ahead of us were in critical condition; moreover, the younger boy didn't have a good chance of surviving the next twenty-four hours. He was badly burned and had inhaled a great deal of smoke. The older boy, although not as badly burned, had a broken should and internal injuries as well as smoke in his lungs. I went back outside where not to my surprise was Bill Brown, or as he was known around the television station, Blowhard Bill. The live truck had arrived and set up while I'd been inside. Bill had commandeered Clay and the live truck. I watched Bill finish the on-scene live report with himself outside the ER.
"Bill Brown, Channel 5 Fox News live," he said as he signed off.
"Hello Bill," I said.
"What've you got for me son? Fill me in and then take off. Your assignment's over, I'll take the story from here," Bill said in an arrogant manner.
"First of all I'm not your son and don't ever refer to me as such," I admonished the older man.
"I'll refer to you anyway I want to you little snot nose son of bitch. I was reporting the news before you were a glimmer in your old man's eye you disrespectful fucking shit," Bill said, "furthermore the best part of you ran down your old man's leg. Now get the fuck outa here."
I could see the light indicating that Clay's camera was still rolling capturing the little spat, so I just let his remarks roll off my back. I turned and walked back inside the ER. Blowhard Bill could fish for his own information. I wanted to see if I could get anymore information about any of the kids involved in the fire. I lucked out and found the older boy being wheeled into a room. They had dressed his second degree burns and sutured the lacerations. I asked the nurse what his condition was and she told me that he would be held for twenty-four hours observation before being discharged. She asked me if I knew who or where the next of kin could be located, because the older boy was a minor there needed to be someone to sign his discharge orders. The hospital also needed next of kin information about the two younger boys in the burn unit. I told her I'd check.
She finished putting the oldest boy of the three in his bed and thanked me. I walked out in the hall as the nurse finished fussing over the boy to make some inquires by cell phone, and then called my dad for some help. I got dad on the phone and he told me that the whole town was watching the Breaking News story unfold and the family was proud of my reporting. I told dad what I knew and what was needed. He told me he'd get hold of his attorney and meet me at the trauma center in an hour. I spoke to the nurse and told her that there was an attorney who would be arriving in an hour to take charge of the minors in about an hour.
I ask the nurse to be discrete and not divulge the boy's location to any other reporters until the attorney arrived. She agreed. I went back outside to see if I could locate Clay. I found him at the live truck and ask what Bill had lined up for him the rest of the day. He said that Bill had called for another camera operator, one he preferred, telling the boss that Clay and I should be removed from the hospital area immediately. He told the station manager that I was a disrespectful little twit and he couldn't work with me any longer. I confided in Clay that my dad was on his way with his attorney to take charge of the boy's affairs; furthermore, I was assured that I would get first interview with the older boy.
Once my dad and his attorney arrived they went inside to meet with hospital administrators and the police lieutenant. Of course, I tagged along behind them. The hospital administers told all gathered in the room that there would be a news conference at noon to give details about the condition of the two boys in the burn center. I also learned at the news conference that the police would take part explaining all they knew or could disclose about the ongoing police investigation. Police were trying to locate any next of kin for the boys. The mother and father had perished in the fire along with any records that might shed some light on the family background.
As soon as I overheard that I slipped away to talk to the older boy again. He was sleeping in the room where I left him earlier. I asked the nurse if I could wake him and ask him some questions. She said that would be okay. I sat down beside the boy's bed took hold of his hand gently nudging him awake I introduced myself. He told me his name was Ivan, and that his family had immigrated to America from Russia.
"So, Ivan can you tell me what happened at your house earlier this morning?" I asked as I activated my hand held audio recorder.
"I want to know how my brothers are doing. No one will tell me anything," Ivan said.
"I won't ever lie to you. From what I hear the younger boy is in grave condition. The older one has been upgraded from critical to serious. You however, are scheduled to be discharged in twenty-four hours, after observation, if next of kin can be found to sign you out."
Once again Ivan began sobbing. I blotted the tears away with some tissues from the table next to the bed. The nurse told me I'd have to leave, but Ivan told her he wanted me to stay. He told her he felt comfortable with me. I sat quietly next to the bed, knowing that in time the teenager would speak to me again. Minutes of silence passed before Ivan spoke again.
"He killed her didn't he? And then he tried to kill my brothers?" Ivan asked, choking back tears.
"I don't know what happened back at your house. The police are investigating it as a crime scene, trying to get to the bottom of things," I said.
"I know the son of a bitch killed her; he killed my mom," Ivan blurted out before he started crying again, "you said you wouldn't lie to me."
"Yes, from initial reports it appears that your father killed your mother and then set the house on fire in an attempt to take out the whole family," I said.
"I tried to save them but the fire was too hot when I got to them," Ivan said.
"How many family members were in the house, Ivan?"
"Mom, dad and my two brothers."
"Well, you managed to save both of them," I said, trying to comfort him, what are their names and ages?"
"There are three of us. Nick is next younger than me, he's fifteen. I got him to the window, but I think he fell out as we tried to escape." Ivan said.
"Alex kept going back for his cat. He's twelve. Finally, I threw him over my shoulder and got him out the window and down the ladder. I didn't think he was alive when the firemen got to us," Ivan said, beginning to sob again.
Finally, I had names and ages. All three boys were accounted for; the only member of the family missing was Alex's cat. I excused myself, leaving the room so the nurse could give Ivan a sponge bath. I gave the names to the nurse before I got on my cell phone to start making calls. I called the fire department. They referred me to the SPCA and animal control. Animal control told me that two pets were recovered at the fire: a boxer with burns and a cat with burns. Both had been sent to a local vet. Both animals were alive and being treated, another human interest angle to the story.
I reentered the hospital room where I found a much cleaner Ivan and told him, "Both family pets are still alive and being treated by a local vet: a boxer dog and cat.
"There are two cats," Ivan said, "one belonged to Alex and the other older cat belonged to mom."
"Alex will want to know about his cat when he starts to recover," Ivan said.
"What does Alex cat look like?" I asked.
"He's a multicolored female cat. You know, white, orange and black," Ivan said.
"Okay, I'll try to verify the sex and color of the cat at the vets. You get some sleep and if a balding fat reporter named Brown comes in here asking questions, don't answer any of his questions, Okay."
"Sure. You going to find Alex's cat?" Ivan asked.
"Going to try. Get some sleep, I'll be back," I said as I departed his room.
Again, I met up with Clay and asked him if he had time to free lance with me. He agreed. We found my dad inside the ER talking to his attorney and police. I ask about a ride back home for Clay and me. The attorney was going to stay answering questions at the noon news conference, and representing the boy's interests. Blowhard Bill would keep busy covering the news conference. Once we were on the road Clay shared the audio and video of Bill telling me in no uncertain terms to get off the assignment with dad and me. My dad took the turn off to the television studio. When we approached the gate the guard recognized Clay and I and waved us through.
Once dad parked his car we all went inside; Clay and I headed for a debriefing. Dad in the meantime went into the general manager's office to report on an obnoxious Bill Brown. Before Clay and I were released the General Manager for Channel 5 entered the room asking to view the audio and video of the earlier discussion between Bill Brown and me outside the hospital. Once he had reviewed the ugly scene he asked Clay to duplicate and leave a copy for him before he left. I told the General Manager about my plans to do a follow-up story about the family's pets. The GM agreed advising us to go home and get cleaned up and some rest first.
We went out to the parking area to find that Clay's car wouldn't start. So, Clay called for a tow truck to take it to the garage. I offered Clay a ride and he accepted.
"You want to go by my place first so we can shower and change and then we can go get something to eat, my treat," I said.
"Okay, if you don't mind me showering at your place before we go eat?"
"Sure, no problem," I replied.
I thought to myself why not offer my shower to Clay, maybe I'd get a peek at the beefcake stud in the nude. Clay looked fine in clothes, but how did he appear in the buff was the real question. With any luck I'd find out in a few minutes. I pulled into my covered parking area. Oh shit, it hit me, was Jared still in my apartment. I had forgotten about him in my zeal to get a glimpse of Mr. Hunky cameraman in the nude.
Comments and critics on the story are welcome. If you find any mistakes please feel free to point them out to me. Address all correspondences to Randy at: bn2rumpranger "at" yahoo.com Subject: Anal Awakening
Do not send any e-mail with attachments to this address as they are automatically deleted using special anti Spam software.
All rights reserved. This story is copyrighted and may not be distributed on any site or publications without the express written permission of the author.