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For as long as I can remember, I have loved fire. Throughout my adolescence, I would spend my free time sneaking off to the woods, bringing my own fires to life. I would sit in their warmth, gaze into those dancing, flickering flames, and whittle away the hours. Even after I was given “the talk” by my parents, I would still lay in front of the flames, my fingers dipping south of my waist to touch myself in the glow of my fire. When I was caught by a classmate, Matthew, I thought that he would be upset, confused by what he had seen. But instead, he invited me back to his house - where he also passed the time building massive fires in his family’s fireplace! Lying in front of the roaring fire, I couldn’t help myself; I peeled off my clothing and began touching myself in front of him. And pretty soon, he decided to join in… Warning: this story features intense and explicit scenes of fire-fueled sensual pleasure, and is intended for mature pyrophiles only!