I don't know WHAT you call this

***Trigger warning--sexual content***

I don't exactly remember the whole context, but the dialogue and some of the action loosely followed Pulp Fiction. There were a couple attempts at sex involving me, Fabianne and Butch.  So here's the business:

Fabianne and I were outside somewhere on a picnic table. We were partially clothed, and she was straddling me and imploring me to declare my love.

"Say it!" she begged, whispering in my ear.

"I want you to be with me," I said, dutifully repeating Bruce Willis's lines.

"Forever and ever?" she continued, mixing her lines slightly with mine. 

"Um. Forever is a long time, babe," I said, fearing my honest answer would kill the mood. It did not. She continued to dry hump me without comment until the scene changed. 

Atop a ladder outside my house, under the eaves on the northeast corner, in a configuration that was confusing to all involved, Butch was straddling me. Neither of us were clothed, and private parts were being made quite public.

"I don't know how this is going to work," I said, as we both fumbled around, deciding who was going to put what where.

I grabbed both of our tools and clasped them together in my hand in a kind of penis handshake. Some arousal was felt on both ends. It was determined that since he was on top, that was how we were going to proceed. I was kind of looking forward to it, but just before the moment of insertion, I noticed that a tree which had fallen up against the raingutter earlier this year, and was still somehow present, was on fire.

It wasn't a large fire, just the tip of the tree that happened to be leaning against the house. Butch didn't think it was much to be concerned with, so he tried to convince me to keep going. I thought about it for a minute, but the flames were starting to blacken the wood of the eaves, and, fearing it would catch,  I had to decline.

"Let's at least get this fire out," I said, extricating myself from the awkward entanglement of limbs. 

I started grabbing handfuls of dirt to douse the flames. The fire was soon out, and the smoky, steaming mess smoldered in a less threatening manner. Surveying the damage, I noticed that my water heater enclosure was open, and the tank had fallen over, still somehow connected and not leaking, but not optimal. It was covered with dirt as well.

Butch left, and although I kept searching for him, we never did hook up. Probably for the best. I had too much work to do on my house to be fucking around on a ladder anyway.