Candy struggled with her wardrobe all morning. At first, blue was not an option. But as she gave herself critical looks in the mirror, she continued finding fault with what she wore. The orange shirt did not go with her slacks, then, her white blouse had a stain. Maybe it was a stain, perhaps is was a shadow, but it returned to the closet anyway.
Finally, her hand trembling, she pulled her pale blue blouse from her closet. Now she felt satisfied. Candy thought the pale blue blouse and her black skirt made a fetching combination. She hesitated though as she took one last look in her mirror. She felt frustration rising as something still didn't seem quite right to her, but she could not put a finger on it.
As her work day progressed, Candy frequently checked herself in the bathroom mirror. She still felt something was off with her clothes. Her frustration built, unable to spot the flaw in her dress, her co-workers complaining endlessly about wondering if the repairman would actually show.
A half hour before the end of the day, many of Candy's coworkers past her office door heading for the exit. She felt butterflies in her stomach wondering if he would show. One last trip to the bathroom mirror, Candy finally saw the flaw in her dress that had bugged her all day. Her bra, she could see the outline of the straps on her shoulders and the outline of the cups on her chest. Knowing she was alone, she kept her ear pealed for the sound of anyone coming. Quickly, she took her bra off and balled it in her hand. Looking in the mirror once again, she knew things were right, now, after all this trouble, she wondered if he would show.
She had cast a glance at the clock on the wall, only fifteen minutes until the end of the day and no repairman. Candy chastised herself for getting all worked up. Of course he would not show, he was nothing more than a tease. He had to be, after leaving her on the edge of an orgasm last week. She resolved right then, as she hit send on an email, that she would ignore his existence if he ever showed again.
"You wore a blue blouse." Candy froze when she heard the familiar voice. She could feel his lust dripping from every word he uttered. Her heart skipped several beats and the butterflies in her stomach flew wildly about. She knew she had to respond, but how? It came to her in a flash.
"You are the worst repairman that has ever worked on our copier! Where did you get your license? A cracker jack box?"
Candy stood and gave him the most withering stare she could, feeling her unencumbered breasts shake under the pale blue blouse. She smiled inwardly as she watched his eyes focus on her chest.
"You left the copier unfulfilled when you left! Is that your idea of customer service! Any eighteen year old knows better than that!" Candy was unnerved as the repairman leaned impassively against her office door frame. "Well? What are you going to do to fix the problem? Stand there like a statue?"
Candy took a step back from her desk as the repairman pulled her office door closed and clicked the lock. His lips were set firmly, but his eyes danced with delight.
"Is rudeness genetic with you or were you taught that way. I would think, after last weeks lesson, that you would have learned something." He closed the distance between them like a panther stalking prey. He set his tool bag on the edge of Candy's desk and casually undid the clasps holding it closed. Candy stood frozen in place as the repairman moved her chair out of the way.
Towering over her, he leaned down and growled in her ear, "But obviously, you haven't." He moved around to growl in her other ear, "If you want your "copier" serviced thoroughly, put your palms on the desk."
Candy hesitated only a moment before she placed her hands on her desk, palms down. Her rock hard nipples scrapped the fabric of her blouse with each breath. Sweat began to bead on her lip and forehead as she eagerly anticipated the repairman's lesson.
Her breath caught when she felt his fingers unclasp her skirt and slowly draw the zipper down. Candy shuddered as her skirt fell to the floor, puddling around her feet. Without being told, she carefully moved her skirt to one side with her foot.
The repairman snarled in her ear, "Assume last weeks position you discourteous trollop!"
"Yes sir." Candy mumbled breathlessly. She could feel her heartbeat race as she stepped back until her back was almost parallel with the floor.
Before she could widen her stance, the repairman said, "One moment you ill-mannered tart." Like last week, the repairman's hands wandered across Candy's panty covered ass, kneading here and cupping there. His fingers then found her waistband and slowly dragged them over her ample backside and down her thighs. Instead of stopping mid thigh, like the previous lesson, he let them drop to the floor.