Brazzers
Charles Dera, Lacy Lennon Pic(s)
The piercing electronic shriek of the smoke detector sliced through the morning’s calm, a sound Charles Dera knew all too well from his role as the building’s dedicated, if occasionally flustered, safety officer. Today’s unannounced drill, however, felt distinctly different as he strode purposefully into the apartment of his newest tenant, the captivating Lacy Lennon. Lacy, rather than displaying panic, regarded the blaring alarm with a curious, almost playful smirk that immediately put Charles on an unexpected back foot. “We have to practice the emergency evacuation procedure, right now,” he stated, his official tone attempting to mask a sudden, personal distraction. Lacy slowly rose from her couch, her movements a deliberate, fluid counterpoint to the alarm’s frantic staccato. “A drill?” she purred, stepping closer until the faint, enticing scent of her perfume mingled with the imagined smell of smoke. “I think I need a very… hands-on demonstration, Charles.” His clipboard, once a symbol of authority, felt suddenly superfluous as she traced a finger along the strap of his uniform. The official safety script evaporated from his mind, replaced by a far more primal and immediate awareness of her proximity. The relentless alarm faded into a dull background hum, a forgotten metronome to their new, unscripted, and intensely personal safety protocol. In that charged moment, the only thing either of them needed to be rescued from was the unbearable tension of their own restraint.
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