Battersea Blaze
"Firefighter Oluchi responds to a false alarm at the Battersea penthouse of Zainab—a thick Somali fashion designer who decides the best way to thank her rescuer is with a very private showing."
The alarm was false—burnt toast, not an inferno.
But when Oluchi stepped into the Battersea penthouse in her turnout gear, she forgot all about fire safety.
The woman standing there was stunning. Thick Somali curves wrapped in silk lingerie, clearly interrupted in the middle of something.
"I'm so sorry," Zainab said. "I was... distracted."
Her eyes traveled over Oluchi's body, visible despite the bulky uniform.
"Take your time," Oluchi said. "We need to inspect anyway."
The inspection took longer than necessary.
Zainab offered tea. Showed her the fashion studio. Commented on how the fireproof gear must get hot.
"You can take it off," Zainab suggested. "It's safe now."
Oluchi stripped down to her station uniform, suddenly aware of Zainab's eyes on her curves.
"You're very fit," Zainab observed.
"Job requirement."
"Is it also a job requirement to look like a goddess?"
"I design for curves," Zainab continued, moving closer. "For women who look like us. Thick. Beautiful. Unapologetic."
"That's admirable."
"I'd like to design something for you." Her hands found Oluchi's waist. "But first I need to see... exactly what I'm working with."
The kiss happened naturally. Inevitably.
Zainab pushed her onto the velvet couch surrounded by fabric samples.
"Let me show you my appreciation properly."
She undressed Oluchi with a designer's eye and a lover's hunger. Every inch exposed, admired, touched.
"God, you're perfect."
"I'm sweating from the gear—"
"Good. I like you hot."
Zainab's mouth was everywhere.
Her breasts. Her belly. Between her thick thighs. The fabric samples fell to the floor as they moved, silk and satin getting tangled with uniform pieces.
"Yes—Zainab—don't stop—"
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They made love surrounded by Zainab's creations, two thick bodies celebrating themselves.
"I should thank you properly too," Oluchi said afterwards.
"You just did."
"I mean with my mouth."
Zainab smiled. "Then by all means."
The station asked why the inspection took three hours.
Oluchi blamed a thorough safety check.
"Very thorough," she said with a straight face.
Zainab became her girlfriend, then her partner. She designed Oluchi's wedding dress—a stunning piece that celebrated every curve.
"Best false alarm I ever responded to," Oluchi said on their wedding day.
"Best toast I ever burned," Zainab agreed.
Battersea had never seen a love story quite like theirs.