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Eve couldn’t leave the office soon enough. Another day passed handling client complaints with a fake smile plastered on her face. She didn’t especially care whether or not they bought the smile, but anything she could do to make them easier to deal with was a godsend. The way she dressed now also seemed to help the situation along. While it flustered the middle aged men, and made the bachelors leer, her body seemed to lubricate the process. She used to dress for comfort, but since she’d made this discovery she had made a point to always show off a little bit of her petite body; whether it was her ample chest or her shapely legs. Of course, always office appropriate; no point of provoking the ire of her all female co-workers.
Slinging her jacket over her arm, Eve said her farewells to the more dedicated staff still at their desks. It was oddly warm and humid for a fall day. As she exited the building, she made a point of walking past the neighbouring unit. It had been under construction for weeks now. The sound of power tools carried into her office, much to the annoyance of her managers. At first, Eve shared this irritation, however, she changed her tune when she started catching glimpses of the contractors standing outside the windows making calls. Hard labour had done their bodies good.
Eve had a boyfriend, as she frequently had to remind herself. Things were good, and she loved him. But the sex just wasn’t what it used to be. He hadn’t noticed her new more provocative look, and hadn’t initiated sex in months, maybe years now. She worried that the rest of her life would be sexless. Examining herself in the mirror in the mornings, she would wonder if somehow it was her fault they never fucked anymore. Maybe she had some sort of reverse body dysmorphia where she thought she looked attractive but she was in fact not. Maybe that’s what they call confidence? She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t feel confident most of the time. She thought she used to when she was single, but perhaps that was a false memory, or perhaps her past ‘confidence’ was born of the alcohol she would consume during her dating years.
The labourers made her feel confident. A few days ago she had stopped to peer into the work site to see how far along the project had come. When she turned to continue on her way home she found two of the labourers looking at her. Leaning against their white work truck, they did not avert their eyes. Both were very tanned, and hadn’t shaven for a few days. The thinner one was smoking a cigarette, and didn’t look away even as he flicked off the ashes. He was staring at her breasts. The other one, the taller one, still wearing his hardhat, was looking her up and down. He grinned. She flushed immediately. She didn’t know what to do. She certainly shouldn’t talk to them. She looked down at the sidewalk and struggled with her iPod earbuds. She walked home. When she got home, she masturbated furiously. She was soaked.
Today, she again saw the smoking labourer against the truck. She resolved not to make eye contact. She carried her head high and kept an even stride. She could feel his eyes on her. Still she didn’t look at him. She was not going to let them know canlı bahis about the things she had thought about upon her arrival home the other night. He would see it in her eyes if she made contact. His light green eyes, so piercing against his sun-soaked skin. Green eyes? Was she remembering, or was she looking at him…
She was on the ground. She tried to figure out what had happened. She noticed the door to the unit under construction swing close. Oh. My. God. She knew what had happened now. It was more embarrassing than her running away last time. She had been trying so hard to not see them, she had done just that. She hadn’t seen that they were just locking up and had walked straight into the door. If only she could melt into the side walk.
“I’m so sorry. Are you alright!?”
A figure squatted down in front of her. Her face was level with a denim covered crotch. Eve’s jaw slackened. Her big brown eyes looked up. It was the taller guy she had seen the other day. He wasn’t wearing his hard hat, and she could see his face better. With his stubble covered strong jawline, and the beginnings of crow’s feet next to his eyes, he looked like he might be older than her. His eyes made her think perhaps not. His eyes were kind, but hungry. The sort where you know he’ll treat you with respect if the situation demands it, but you also know he’s picturing you naked.
She realized she hadn’t said anything yet. She tried to talk, but found herself unable to form words. She was still looking into those hungry eyes.
She could smell the smoke when the other one came over. His figure blocked the sun. “Jesus, Erik. What did you do? How can you be so competent on the job and such a dumbass the moment you walk out the door. Literally, the moment you open the door. Is she alright?”
“Fuck off, Scott. I dunno, she isn’t saying anything. Maybe we should call somebody? The foreman would kill us if we got sued before the job was even done. She has some scratches on her hands where she broke her fall.” As if on cue, Eve suddenly could feel a sting on her palms. She looked down and saw some scratches, some tiny rocks stuck in the wounds. She looked up again at Erik, who was still talking. “I don’t think she hit her head, but she isn’t saying anything. We should take her to a doctor or something. I think there is a walk-in in the strip—”
Who said that? They were looking at her. Did she say that?
Scott breathed a sigh of relief, “She talks. Hey lady, are you alright? Can you walk?” He extended his hand. It was big, the palm was rough and the back was covered with dried paint. He was doing his best to look at her face, but he kept looking at her breasts. They looked glorious, her chest heaving after the trauma. Even through her dress, he could see them overflow the cups a little with each deep breath.
Eve’s ability to talk seemed to have escaped her again, but she reached out to accept his offer. At first he grabbed her hand, but when she winced he leaned in further to secure his grip on her forearm. Her arm looked like a doll’s compared his hands. His long fingers wrapped around fully and then some.
As bahis siteleri soon as she was upright and Scott let go, she found her knees unable to keep her steady. Luckily, Erik was close enough to steady her. His hands were warm on her bare shoulders. She fell backwards into him. She found she fit nicely into him, her head into the groove of his chest, the top curve of her ass brushing his groin.
Not fully thinking, Eve denied medical assistance but finally agreed to have a seat in renovation area while Scott went to buy some water for her. There weren’t any chairs, so Erik lifted her onto the work bench.
A few minutes passed in silence. The fall sun was starting to set outside. There didn’t seem to be any lighting hooked up in here yet. Still, the streetlights had just turned on, and the glow from the signs of nearby shops provided ample light. She watched as Erik rearranged a few loose materials around the space.
Having regained her wits somewhat, Eve broke the silence, “Thank you.”
He stopped and walked slowly towards her. He raised his eyebrows, “You know it was also my fault you are hurt to begin with?” He stopped right in front of her with a boyish grin.
She laughed, “That is true, I guess. I suppose I mean ‘Thank you for not leaving me stunned on the sidewalk, after you hit me with a door'” She looked up, and locked eyes with him. His gaze was so intense. She wanted to break the stare, but she couldn’t.
He stepped closer. She could feel the stiff fabric of his jeans brushing against her knees. Some sort of slutty reflex in her caused her to spread her legs a little. “Well I couldn’t leave a pretty woman like yourself laid out on the sidewalk of a strip mall.” He stepped into the V she had made with her legs, spreading her legs even more.
The only thing keeping his covered cock from pressing up against her mound was the barrier formed by her dress stretched between her legs. There was no misinterpreting his intention. Their eyes were still locked. He wanted her.
Managing to break his gaze, Eve looked down. “Won’t Scott be back any minute now?”
Erik, interpreting this as a rebuff, moved to back away. Eve tensed her thighs to resist his departure. She didn’t want him to go further way. She wanted him closer. She wanted him in her, and despite what she said, she didn’t even really care whether or not Scott walked in.
They remained in limbo for what seemed like hours. Her heart felt like it was going to come through her chest. She could see his breathing get heavier. She couldn’t take it anymore. She bit her lower lip, trying to stall while coming up with something seductive to say. All she could manage was a desperate, “Please.”
That was all Erik needed. His hands gripped her thighs firmly, almost to the point of pain. He tried to step further towards her pussy, but found her dress still in the way. His rough hands moved up her legs. His thumbs hooked underneath the edge of her dress. The fabric bunched as he worked his way up her body. He stopped to give her ass a firm squeeze before the dress went around the final curve and the dress hung around her waist.
He pressed himself into her bahis şirketleri lace covered mound. If she hadn’t been wearing her black panties today, she was certain there would be a wet spot on the crotch. He could probably feel it if he wasn’t wearing his jeans. Why was he still wearing his jeans? She tugged uselessly at his waist band. Ugh. Belt. She just wanted his cock so bad.
He backed away a little, she thought that it was so she could more easily access his belt buckle. She reached forward only to find his arm in the way. What was he doing?
She moaned as a thick finger slid into her gash. Not even bothering to remove her panties, he had simply moved the fabric aside. He curled his finger in a come-hither motion. She gasped, and leaned into him. She tried to work herself further onto his finger. He curled his fingers again, this time Eve thought she might have lost her vision for a second. She titled her hips back giving him greater access. He slipped another finger in. She felt her own juices run down her ass.
She let out a long throaty moan as he continued to finger fuck her. She thought she saw some movement out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t be sure, and frankly, as long as it didn’t interrupt this feeling of bliss, she didn’t care what it was.
Erik slipped out his fingers. Eve’s heart sank. Her lips formed a pout as she tried to figure out why he had stopped. He grabbed her knees so she sat more on the edge of the bench.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m thirsty and you are a very”, he slipped a finger back into her dripping cunt. He pulled it out and brought it to her mouth. She wrapped her lips around his finger as he slowly drew it out. She could taste herself. “Very, wet slut,” he finished.
Eve clenched her pussy muscles. She loved dirty talk. Erik kneeled down and his face was level with her cunt. This time he rolled off her panties and threw them aside. She laid back and rested her well pedicured feet on his shoulders. When had he taken his shirt off? With some effort, she lifted her head to get a better look. His shoulders were broad and he had some blonde chest hair. He clearly worked out in addition to his manual job. She bet he had a 6-pack too, though she couldn’t ascertain because now all she could she was his mess of blonde hair between her legs.
She felt his breath on her cunt. It was hot, and she wanted more. She felt him trace his tongue around her waxed lips. The bastard was teasing her. She bucked her hips in protest. She heard him laugh a little and then continue his slow tease, still not touching her clit.
She suddenly felt a tickle around her rosebud. She felt his pinky slip inside. It felt amazing. Her own pussy juice must have lubed up the hole. Now she felt his tongue on her clit. She cried out, grasping for the edges of the work bench.
“Damn, Erik. It looks like your talents go beyond woodworking.”
She froze. Erik’s tongue stopped, though his finger remained in her ass. She was suddenly very aware that she was in the middle of a construction area, laying on a work bench, exposed from the waist down with a strange man’s face buried in her cunt.
She looked over. Scott was standing a foot away from her face, bottled water in hand. His eyes, as always, were looking at her tits. For her part, her eyes were drawn to the impressive bulge in his pants. She couldn’t…could she?
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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