Manual Labour

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Creampie

When the long school break came around I landed a job at one of the local landscaping places. It was just manual labour but, hey, it was a job. I was eighteen and had my license which meant that the boss could just point me at a truck and give me an address and the job details and let me go. He had someone supervise me for the first couple of jobs but after I proved I knew what I was doing I was given free rein.

“I know how long any job I assign you is likely to take,” he told me, “and I’m not paying for more hours than that unless you can come up with a damn good reason. Also I expect top quality work. If you can’t do it then don’t expect me to keep you on.”

I hastened to assure him that his trust in me would not be misplaced and off I went. Most of the jobs I got allocated were crap jobs, me being the newbie and getting assigned the shit. Fair enough, as eventually someone else would be the newbie and they’d start getting the crap and I’d move on to bigger and better things.

One thing that landscaping does is build muscle on you. When you have to move two cubic metres of white pebbles to make a decorative yard you find just what muscles you’re lacking. I only had to do that once, but it was a hell of a painful way to spend the afternoon.

My current job was basically straightforward. A big old house on the outskirts of the town had been standing empty for six months and just recently been sold. The house has what was referred to as a secluded garden out the back. Basically this meant that the backyard was surrounded by rather high hedges. The new owner moved in, took a really good look at his secluded garden and called my boss, asking for help.

The job was relatively straight forward. I had to trim the hedges, mow the lawns, whipper-snipper the edges of the lawn, and weed the flower beds. The first three were going to be easy, motorised tools doing the work. The killer was the garden beds. There were at least a dozen of the damn things scattered around the yard and I’d have to trim around each one and then weed each one. A lot of work there.

I hopped to, trimming the hedges first and removing the clippings, followed by mowing the lawn and doing the edgings, and I had that knocked off in pretty quick time. The yard looked heaps better with just that much done. All that was left was weeding the various beds and I was out of there, but I estimated it would take me another couple of hours to cover all those beds. Why couldn’t they have a single bed running around the edge of the yard like normal people?

I’d been at the weeding for about an hour when I heard the back door close. I looked up to see the woman who I assumed was the new lady of the house approaching. I just stood and looked her over, having a quiet heart attack at the same time.

She was tall, but not overly so, and reasonably slender. Very fit looking. A firm high bust of a generous nature that just naturally drew the eye, or it did mine. She was blonde and her eyes looked dark so I was guessing they were probably brown or hazel, and she looked to be in her early twenties. Certainly several years older than me.

What else should I say about this lovely young woman? Have I mentioned the fact that the main reason I were looking at her so intently was because she was naked? (Wearing sandals, but they didn’t count.) From her lack of tan lines I’d have to guess that she often sun-bathed au natural and I guess that was her intention today. Seeing she was carrying a towel I assumed that was her intention now, in her nice secluded garden.

“Ah, excuse me, Ma’am” I managed to say and she turned and noticed me standing there looking at her, like a possum frozen by oncoming headlights.

“Oh, you’re still here. When I didn’t hear any motors I thought you’d gone.”

No blushing or attempt to use the towel to cover herself, just an expression of slight surprise to see me.

“Um, yes, well I’m still doing the weeding,” I explained. “That’s something you have to do by hand.”

“Oh, I guess it is. Never mind me. You just go right ahead and do whatever you have to.”

I didn’t so much as blink. I just kept looking at her. I mean, she even shaved and I could see everything in exquisite detail as the sun shone full on her. How was I supposed to look away and go back to weeding gardens?

“Um, I’ll only be about another hour,” I said a trifle desperately. keçiören escort “Do you think you could put your sun-bathing off until then? You’re a bit distracting, you know.”

She looked a little surprised when I said that, then I saw enlightenment dawn on her as she hastily looked down at herself. The fool woman had completely forgotten that she was naked.

She blushed as she first looked down at herself and then back at me. I saw her hands twitch as though she was going to do a frantic hand dance and then she surprised me by relaxing and starting to giggle.

“Oh my goodness, I completely forgot. What must you think of me?” she said, giggling away. “No wonder you’re staring at me like a rabid wolf at a fat rabbit.”

She did a slow pirouette, turning right around, and her back view was just as fine as the front view. A very delectable little bottom, nicely rounded. I could imagine my hands holding those cheeks as I pulled her against me.

“Now behave yourself and put your tongue back in your mouths,” she told us. “It’s far too late for me to pretend that you haven’t seen me so why bother. Just ignore me.”

“Just ignore you. Right. Exactly how am I supposed to do that?”

“Um, with willpower?”

“You’re obviously mistaking me for a gay pansy,” I said through gritted teeth. “There is no way I could be around you dressed like that and not be distracted.”

She simply giggled some more, finding the whole thing a laughing matter.

“What I’m trying to say, ma’am, is that standing around me like that in a place as private as this is an invitation to rape. Now I’m sure you don’t want me to molest you and I don’t really need the ongoing temptation, so why don’t you do us all a favour by going inside for a little bit longer.”

She tossed her hands into the air which did intriguing things to her breasts.

“I might have guessed it. You’re still a teenager. Never seen a teenager yet who wasn’t led around by his cock.”

“Teenager, maybe, but I am of age. Are you going to go inside or do I start molesting you?”

“Is that a trick question?” she asked, her giggles starting up again. “If I have a choice I’ll go with you starting to molest me and we can see where it goes.”

Bang. Just like that my bluff was called. Catch me really trying to put the hard word on a customer. That was a fast way to get fired with no references. I sighed and turned away.

“Maybe if I just ignore her she’ll go away,” I told myself. “No doubt weeding will take my mind of the lovely naked girl standing there laughing at me.”

“How the hell do I ignore something like that?” I asked myself but, honestly, I had no answer to that question. I’d still be seeing her even if my eyes were closed.

“Excuse me,” she called, smiling when I turned to look at her again, desperately trying to lift my eyes head high.

“I’m still waiting for the molesting to start,” she calmly told us. (Calmly if you ignored the giggles.) “Surely you’re not going to back out now.”

“I decided I wasn’t being fair to you,” I explained. “This is your home and you have a right to feel safe here. Anyway, I’m twice your size and I’d feel like an incredible brute coercing you to do something you didn’t want to. If there were two of you then the odds would have been a lot more even and I’d have happily molested the pair of you, but as it is I’ll have to pass.”

With that I moved past the bench next to the current flower bed and crouched down to continue my work. Unfortunately she wasn’t having a bar of it.

“A glib excuse,” she said, strolling closer. She made a half turn, bending slightly so her bottom was on display, and slapped it. “Tell me, wouldn’t you like to be hitting on this?”

“If by hitting on it you mean spanking it then yes, I would,” I said irritably. She was really being unreasonable and we both knew it.

“Ooh, kinky,” she said with that infernal giggle. I’m glad I was giving her so much pleasure. “And what comes after the spanking?”

I looked up at her from where I was crouched, and it’s amazing the view I had from down there. I reluctantly rose to my feet, looked at the bench that was right there, and promptly sat on it. Time to throw the onus back on her and see how she handled it.

“Bend over,” I said, patting my knee, “and I’ll arrange things so that you’ll be in a keçiören escort bayan position to find out what follows the spanking.”

That rotten bitch didn’t even hesitate. She just walked over and bent across my lap, face down, bottom high in the air, giggling away, not even making the slightest attempt to cover anything or protect her bottom. I had no choice. I brought my hand around in a long sweeping curve that terminated at her bottom with a loud smacking sound.

Did she react? Too right she did. Not with a protest though.

“Wow! That smarts. I didn’t think you’d dare go ahead. Do it again. Harder.” Eager and giggling and ready for more. She was seriously strange.

Seeing I wasn’t going to have to hold her in position I saw no reason to let my free hand just dangle idly. I reached around and cupped her breast at the same time as my hand landed a second time.

Another squeal of pained delight together with some more giggling and a minor protest. The protest wasn’t about the spanking – the word ‘harder’ expressed her feeling about that. The rather mild protest was that I was fondling her breast.

“Well, if you don’t want me fondling your breast, tell me to stop,” I retorted, my hand connecting for the third time.

You have to understand that this was my first time spanking a girl, let alone a naked girl. If I’d stopped to consider doing such a thing I guess I’d have thought the girl would be upset and protesting. The idea that the girl might be all in favour of the spanking and eager for more would never have crossed my mind. This was quite an education to me and I have to admit that I wondered what my current girlfriend would think about being spanked.

Not being an old hand at this sort of thing I missed the early signals that things needed to change slightly. It was the slow realisation that her legs had drifted a little too far apart and her pussy was both aroused and being offered that gave me the idea to drop a sharp slap against her vulva.

Damn, but I thought she was going have an orgasm when my hand landed there. She squealed an ecstatic ‘yes’, before finally protesting.

“That’s not my bottom. You’re not supposed to spank me there,” she gasped out, while making no attempt to bring her legs closer together or to protect her pussy.

“What, here?” I asked, slapping her vulva again.

“Yes,” she cried, then changed that to, “No,” when I followed her yes with another slap in the same place.

“Yes or no?” I asked. “You don’t seem to know your own mind. Doesn’t matter. I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

I swung her to her feet, standing up at the same time, undoing my trousers and pushing them down.

“I suppose that you’re going to take advantage of me and rape me now,” she exclaimed, not sounding too displeased with the idea.

“No such thing,” I denied as I sat back down on the bench. “I’m just being my normal gentlemanly self and offering you a place to sit.”

Finally it was a case of score one for me. She just gaped at me for a moment before pulling herself together. Apparently this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.

“You don’t really expect me to sit on that, do you?” she demanded, pointing at my erection.

The trouble with her pointing at my cock was that it meant she had to look where she was pointing and she almost went into shock when she saw what I had. I’m not saying I had the biggest cock around but I certainly had a respectable helping. Or perhaps a not so respectable helping if the look on her face meant anything.

“Yeah, I do,” I said softly. “You’ve made your intentions plain from the moment you saw me out here. Now I’m telling you it’s time to stop stuffing around and start fucking around. Sit. Down.”

She was still standing where I’d placed her when I swung her off my lap and that put her in easy reach. I reached, catching her arm and drawing her closer. Hands shifting to cover her bottom and I was drawing her closer, her legs parting as she stood straddling my legs, my cock brushing against the inside of her thighs.

“I don’t want to do this,” she protested, clutching my shoulders as she climbed onto the bench and knelt on it, straddling me.

“You’re making me do this,” she pointed out as she settled down a little, her slit descending until it was brushing against the large bulbous head escort keçiören of my cock.

“This is just a different form of rape,” she insisted, her hand slipping between us, making sure that my cock was correctly positioned.

“Oh my god, you’re really doing it,” she gasped, as she slid down onto me, my cock surging up into her.

Right, I thought. You straddle me and sit on me, me who’s just sitting here, leaning back on my hands, and I’m the one forcing you.

She was hot and wet and well and truly ready, and my cock slid up into her just as smooth as you like. Or perhaps I should say she slid down onto my cock in one smooth motion.

She sat there, just looking at me, and then, for god’s sake, she started giggling again.

“You’ve got a hell of a nerve,” she said between giggles. “How dare you jump me like this. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

As far as I was concerned it was official. She was an idiot.

“Well, I’m not,” I told her. “What I am is displeased that you’re not bouncing on me the way a woman should. Get moving.”

I emphasised the request with a firm smack to her bottom, figuring it couldn’t hurt. (Hurt me, that is. I didn’t mind if it made her bottom smart.)

She squealed and started bouncing, and she was bouncing quite eagerly in my opinion. I twisted around and leaned back until I was lying on my back while she just kept on squealing and giggling and bouncing, having a fine time. (I have to admit that I found it all quite interesting myself.)

She quickly demonstrated that making her do the running was the right idea. Or should I say she slowly demonstrated it. Left to me I’d have probably banged away with great enthusiasm, trying to make it last long enough for her to get off on it, but it would have been a chancy situation. (For her, not me. I’d have got off with no problems.)

As it was, while she seemed to be bouncing away with great enthusiasm, there was a certain controlled element to what she was doing. While she was plainly enjoying herself she managed to slow things down just a trifle whenever I was about to fire off. I’m not sure how she managed that but I guess those extra years she had had given her the required experience, and now I was the recipient of that experience.

I was playing with her breasts, and a lovely pair they were, while she happily bounced. I finally spotted one of the little tricks she was doing. Just as I’d be in a position where my cock was twitching and ready to fire she’d giggle and I’d die down just that little bit, still hot and hard but not quite at the explosive point.

Listening for that giggle and paying attention I was able to see how she interrupted the rhythm for me while still building on her own. Not that I was going to try to stop her doing that. Rather, I took note of it, wondering if I could emulate that trick myself to make me last longer with other girls. It was certainly something worth knowing.

All good things can’t last forever. Her intermittent giggles stopped and she started gasping, putting more effort into her bounce. Deciding that now was the time I dropped my hands from her breasts to her hips and held her tightly. Then I started thrusting up into her with everything I had, with her squealing and riding me and urging me on to bigger and better things.

I have to admit that she won the climax race, but her reactions as she climaxed were enough to send me over the edge, letting loose with my load deep inside her.

She leaned over me for a few moments, her breasts brushing lightly against my chest. Deliberately so in my opinion, as she was causing them to sway from side to side, laughing at me as she did so.

“You’re a brute and an animal,” she told me with some satisfaction, “and you took unconscionable advantage of me. You should be ashamed.”

With that she swung off me and headed to the house, muttering something about having to have a shower. As soon as I could stand up I pulled up my trousers and got back to the weeding.

With the weeding finished I got out of there. I still had time for one small job that was on my list and I nipped around to that address and knocked it off. Then back to the yard to hand in my time-sheet and be off home.

“Mrs Samson called,” my boss told me. “She says you’ve done an excellent job and if her husband wants us to come back she’d appreciate it if I sent you. Well done, lad. A happy customer is a repeat customer.”

I just nodded and made some sort of self-depreciating comment, but I was thinking. Oh, yes, I was thinking. Next time no more Mr Nice Guy. Get on with the spanking as soon as she showed up. Saves wasting all that time arguing about it.

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