Message-ID: <14386eli$9808151834@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Nick Subject: {ASS} "Builders" by Nick (FM voy) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <3.0.1.32.19980806011830.0079bdb0@pop3.demon.co.uk> Builders by Nick (c) July 1998 This story is intended for adults and contains explicit sex scenes. If it is illegal for you to read such literature for whatever reason then don't. This is distributed for entertainment purposes only and the copyright belongs solely to the author (Nick). You may copy, store and pass it on, but you may not alter it or make any money out of it without the authors permission. Any comments e-mail me at Nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk ----------------------------------- This story is written from the point of view of the British working class male. Some words and phrases may or may not travel the Atlantic too well, and so I provide a brief glossary just in case: "cramps your style" - restricts ones ability to attract sexually available women. "bird" - young woman, considered sexually available "page three girl" - "bird" with status "Phwoar" - an expression of delight "crumpet" - see "bird", but more of a collective noun "knackered" - very tired (literally castrated) "totty" - see "crumpet" "cracker" - someone with the ability to become a "page three girl" "arse" - bottom "ponces" - management Now read on: No more manual labour for me. It's office work from now on! This morning I was up and out at 6:30 again. Play's hell with your love-life that ("Not tonight sweetheart, early start in the morning.") Trouble is it's every day of the week (or was.) I like clubbing, me, dancing 'til three in the morning, bringing back a different bird each night. You have to stay in bed 'til midday to sustain the lifestyle, though, and just going out on Fridays and Saturdays really cramps your style! If I missed the works bus that's it. There's no other way to the site at that time of the morning, and if you're so much as a minute after 8:00 then you're out. No appeal, no excuses, no job security. The bus drives round the place picking up the others and every morning we'd go through the same ritual: a comparison of the size of the tits of todays "page three girl" with those of Barry's wife, an in depth discussion of the football and/or the sexual exploits of Cindy in "Eastenders", and a few mucky stories. This morning Gus was telling us about a place he'd worked before. The lads had stood on the scaffolding "yelling encouragement" at some crumpet on a bicycle, and she'd turned around, completely unphased and said "there's only room for one cunt in these shorts!" We all fell about laughing. I don't believe half the stuff Gus tells us. He's our foreman and has been around a lot, sure, but since his lad got a computer and a connection to the internet, his fund of stories has become even more improbable. Anyway, onward and upward. We had some good times, but I'll probably never see Gus or any of the lads again. I'm going to work 9 to 5 and not come home knackered in the evening. I'm going to earn twice as much money as I did before (eventually anyway) and the best part is that there will be women on tap. All hot and gagging for it. Not that working on a building site doesn't have it's advantages. For one thing, I am incredibly fit and my muscle tone is far better than most guys my age, without the need to "work out". It impresses the birds, I know. When I do go clubbing, I always wear something to show off my hard-earned physique, and I'm never short of attention from the fairer sex. Today was hot - in pretty well as many ways as you could imagine. Apart from the mandatory hard hat, heavy boots and gloves, most of the lads attire consisted of just shorts. Mine were, of course, slightly more flash than anyone else's, and slightly less substantial too. After all, one should always look ones best whatever the situation, and crumpet is always on the lookout, especially around a building site. One had to be a little careful not to look *too* good, though - I had noticed funny looks from some of the guys! Come the 11:00 coffee break, I'd been working for 3 hours non-stop (at least that's what I let Gus think). I sat down with the lads on a pile of bricks in the sun and started on my Coke. Suddenly Barry started making a noise like a police siren. "Totty alert! Totty alert!" We all followed his gaze. I must have been overdoing it. I can normally smell decent crumpet a mile off, but I'd missed this one. She was a cracker! She had that way of walking that made everything jiggle, and her purple miniskirt fluttered above a pair of legs to die for. "You missed that one, Kev," someone said. I would have said something like "not my type" in order to maintain my reputation, but for two things. First, for this girl not to be anyone's type he would have had to be gay, and second my slack jaw had already given me away. There was nothing for it. Dropping my half-empty can I ran over to the wire barrier that isolated us from the general public (ostensibly to protect them from falling bricks, but in truth some of the guys in there are animals - not myself I hasten to add). "Hey darling is this your lucky day!" I entwined my fingers in the mesh as she walked past. She quickened her pace slightly, all part of the game. I ran ahead of her. "Give me your number and we can make beautiful music together this evening! Whaddya say?" She kept her eyes straight ahead as she walked on, nearing the end of the fence and safety. Desperate measures, were called for. I dropped to one knee theatrically. "If you walk away now, you'll break a young mans heart!" Cracked it! A flicker of a smile played on those beautiful lips and her eyes met mine. "OI, YOU! Just what do you think you're playing at!!" I looked round angrily to see Gus striding towards me over the rubble. I looked back at the girl but she had already stepped off the curb and was walking away, the breeze playing wickedly with that tiny skirt. Shit! He approached me, face like thunder. "You know it's in your contract *not* to pester members of the public!" "But Gus..." I knew that, but it was one of those things nobody ever took any notice of. "Shut up!" to my surprise he didn't seem to be joking! "If I catch you doing anything like that again, you're out. Do you understand?" "But Gus..." I repeated. "I *said* do you understand!?" I nodded. Even I knew better than to argue. "Good, now get back to work. I want you up top, I'm going to drop a couple of pallets of breeze blocks there and I want someone to guide them down and unpack them OK." He turned and walked away, leaving me to rejoin the lads who were now idly kicking stones around, pretending not to have noticed anything. "What's got into him?" I asked no-one in particular, "he's normally the worst of the lot!" "Management meeting, I think," said Barry, "I saw a herd of them earlier this morning. Gus and few others were called in. Seems the ponces think we pay too much attention to passing trade and not enough on our jobs. Getting the firm a *bad name*, whatever that means!" He spat dispiritedly. "Bastards!" I shinned up the scaffolding to the top of the building and made my way over to the spot were Gus wanted the breeze blocks. There was an office block right next to the site, all glass and designer concrete. The block we were building was going to take all their light away and was going to be taller. As it was, we were already level with the top floors. Not that it mattered. They were all internally lit and the people inside had no business staring out of windows anyway. If I had to work hard, then why shouldn't they? I stopped and signalled to Jake in the crane's cab, that I was ready. Gently he swung the pallet of blocks which hung dangerously from the rig over in my direction. This was a slow process since he had to compensate for the momentum of his load, and as I waited I glanced idly into one of the office windows. There was a movement as a face disappeared quickly behind the blinds. I smiled to myself. "It works both ways," I thought. I turned away from the building so as not to "frighten the horses", and as I turned my attention back to the pallet, which was now almost directly overhead, I caught sight of some panes of reflective glass which had already been unloaded and were leaning against a girder. I could see my own reflection, and behind it the window I had seen my mysterious admirer in. She was there again. I raised my arms and indicated to Jake to start lowering, adopting a stance that would show off my physique to her. This was a serious business, and I didn't want Jake to crash the blocks into the structure, or her office, or, worse still, to land them on top of me! I couldn't, therefore, watch her reaction to me, but I knew nevertheless what effect it would be having on her. Gently, I beckoned the pallet down until it landed exactly where I wanted it. Then I clambered up on top of it to release the hook, so that Jake could get the next load. As I did so, I allowed myself to look at that reflection. She was still there alright, and I could see I was having the desired effect. Her eyes were glazed and her mouth was slack and her hand... I did a double-take. Her hand was actually manipulating her breast. I decided to give her the show of her life, and as I climbed up, I made sure that I made it look as difficult as possible, stretching my legs for a foothold and given her the best view of my well-muscled buttocks that I could. I can't normally see them of course, but from what feedback I've had from birds, I know my arse to be one of my best features. I released the hook and signalled to Jake, standing atop the load like an Adonis. I waved to Jake, and then without warning, turned and waved to her, smiling disarmingly as I did so. I saw her eyes widen suddenly in horror as she retreated out of sight once more. I shrugged, loosened the cables and leapt catlike down from the top. If I knew women, she'd be back. I started to dismantle the pallet, taking the blocks out one at a time and placing them where they would be most convenient for the "brickies" who would follow. As I worked in the sun droplets of sweat started to run down my body, covering it with a glistening sheen which I knew no woman would be able to resist. Without looking, I raised my hand in acknowledgement when I knew she had returned. Her need making her more brazen now that she'd been found out. She now stood fully framed in the window, rather than to one side as before, and so I stood up and faced her with one of my winning smiles. This time she smiled back, waving shyly. I shifted more of the blocks, flexing my muscles unnecessarily and occasionally glancing in her direction. With each glance, she was getting more and more involved. I could see her hand, at first simply massaging the breast as before, then working away at her nipple with her fingers. Her other hand... well I couldn't see that, it was below the window frame, but I could tell from her movements and her increasingly glazed expression what *that* was doing! As I worked, I wondered. Most of these offices were open-plan, and normally no-one could expect to stand in front of a window masturbating without a colleague spotting what was going on! It occurred to me suddenly that this was the top floor and as such only occupied by senior staff in individual offices. This woman was no typist or secretary! I paused and stood upright, mopping my brow as I studied her. This time it was my turn to stare. She was now slowly unbuttoning her blouse. Each button opened, and the front of her bra was unclasped. Gently she pulled the now loosened garment aside. My eyes widened. She closed her eyes as her hands worked at her breasts, her fingers manipulating her exposed nipple. I could see her body thrusting and her mouth open as she cried out soundlessly through the glass. Suddenly she pressed both hands against the window and was staring at me, breathing hard. I stared back at her, my own hand pressed against the crotch of my shorts, discreetly relieving my own mounting tension. She was signalling to me. What was it she wanted me to do? Slowly it dawned on me. She wanted me to remove my own shorts and stand naked in front of her! Well I could understand that, but who the hell did she think I was! Did she seriously think I was going to prance around naked on top of half-constructed building for the whole city to watch? Apart from anything else, right then I had a hard-on which would have been more of a blot on the skyline than Jake's crane! I smiled at her and shook my head. Besides, glancing up, I could see that Jake was coming with the next pallet and I had to concentrate. When I looked again she was gone. As I offloaded the second pallet I glanced occasionally at the window but she never reappeared. "Oh well," I thought, "she'd probably 'shot her load' anyway," but I was a little disappointed that she appeared to have lost interest in me so completely. I had the shock of my life when I felt Gus' hand on my shoulder. "Right you! Off my site!" "What?" "You heard!" he growled menacingly, "I've warned you once today already about pestering the public, and now I've had a complaint from these good people!" he indicated the office block. "You can collect your outstanding wages from the site office, they should be ready now." "But..." Gus lost it. "GET OUT OF HERE NOW YOU LITTLE SHIT!" his face was red. I needed no further clarification and started the climb down to unemployment. I stole one last glance at the office window as I left. She was there again now, blouse buttoned up to the neck this time, her face expressionless. There was, of course, no point in wishing I'd taken my shorts off as requested. I'm not the kind of guy who goes around moaning at injustice. So now I've found out the name of the firm that occupies that building and I've applied to work for them there. OK, so I'll have to start at the bottom, but I'm determined to work my way up and get a position in one of those offices on the top floor. I'm hoping this will happen sooner rather than later. If you want to comment e-mail me at Nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----