I'm a woman in the trades, so I've heard all the jokes. Nobody expects a thick-bodied, 5' 2", curly girl to solve "big boy" problems, but the rest of my crew are a bunch of dipshits, so I'm the one who gets the contracts - almost every single one of them.
Sure, it leads to animosity between coworkers, but that's their problem. My problems start when the animosity comes from clients. Most of the homeowners are women, unaffected by my round thighs, heavy breasts, and blunt demeanor. Men are a little different, either drooling over the stretch to my canvas overalls or endlessly challenging my expertise.
Before those sorts of house calls, I always get into full "dude mode" - you know, shotgun a beer and slap the nearest ass. Which, for me, looks more like my heavy metal playlist and practicing my dead eyes in the rearview mirror. It's security theater, if anything, but it's kept me from getting into trouble. At least... it did until last week.
It was a routine circuit check for a new homeowner, and I arrived as scheduled. I scanned the work order quickly and assembled my bag with my multimeter, a few lengths of grounding wire, the standard plier set, and some switch plates.
I knocked on the door, and was greeted by a tall man. He was clean-shaven with a moderate build, dark brown eyes and rimless glasses. I didn't think anything of him at first, just a standard homeowner. He offered me a cup of coffee, but I declined, having downed my fourth mug before leaving the truck. I asked him, flexing the dead eyes, to show me where the panels are.
He led me to a back bedroom where a recognizable silver door was already open on the wall. A few breakers sat on the desk nearby, giving away an all-too-common occurrence. Without fail, every third or fourth homeowner comes at me with a story about them trying to shove a new part in there and expecting it to "just work." My job is to scratch my head with them for a moment, and then actually fix it.
"So a circuit check for a standard dryer hookup, right?" I said, clearing my throat.
"It's been giving me trouble all week," the homeowner replied, shrugging.
"I see that," I widened my eyes, doing my best to acknowledge his... efforts.
"Liam, by the way," he held his hand out.
"Charlie," I met his gesture, shaking his hand with a strong grip. It's actually Charlotte, but the androgynous name helps maintain the guise.
"I'll... I- ah, I'll be around if you need me to show you anything else." His eyebrows creased deeply, so I guessed that my grip did a number on him. He seemed like such a basic guy at first...
After Liam left, I got to work, running my multimeter through the breakers, and checking the voltage of the nearest outlets. I suspected the issue might be in the laundry room on the other side of the wall, so I left the bedroom and rounded the corner.
I found Liam crouched behind the dryer. He was exactly where I needed to be - another classic homeowner move. I cleared my throat again, "You know, this will work a lot better if you let me do my job."
"Right, right, so sorry about that!" He popped up and backed out of the cramped space, repeating his profuse apology as he retreated. I dismissed him, sliding by and tucking myself into the space. Once I was down there, I saw the problem right away.
"Yep, got it," I was more speaking to myself than anything.
"Wow, that fast, huh?" Liam said, his voice trailing off.
"No big deal. Can you actually grab my tools from around the corner? Thanks." I went back to untangling the ball of wires.
Liam returned quickly, tool bag in hand. He set it on the top of the dryer, and I moved to get up from my crouched position, but I found myself unable. Perfect. Some part of my uniform was stuck on some part of the dryer. While I contemplated ripping myself free, there was a 50/50 chance I'd damage the appliance, so I was forced to do the one thing all trade workers secretly hate... asking for help.
"Liam," I sighed, "I'm stuck on something down here. Any chance you can unhook me?" The first words he said were too muddled to understand, so I was forced to repeat myself. Once I'd received his clumsy agreement, he came over to where I was stuck reaching down over my chest. Halfway down my torso, he stopped, changed directions, reaching over my shoulders instead. Before getting anywhere near the snag, it happened again. He was clearly having a panic-induced episode of choice paralysis, so I gave him some direction, "It feels like the carpenters loop. Can you reach that?"
"Uh..."
Of course he had no idea what a carpenter's loop was. I sighed heavily. "Right thigh... near my knee."
"Your thigh? I can't touch- maybe if I move the dryer?" Liam was getting worked up, that much was clear.
"You can unhook it, or I can tear off whatever part of the dryer I'm stuck on," I said flatly.
"Ok, let's see here..." he moved way too slowly. It would have been sensual if it wasn't so painfully awkward. His hand brushed over the side of my breast as he leaned over me, reaching down across my thigh, and sliding between the side of my knee and the back of the dryer. "I think I feel..."
He popped something, freeing my leg. The release of force sent me tumbling backwards, the crown of my head pressing unmistakably into his crotch. While his lower half softened my fall, the navy blue dress pants he wore weren't nearly thick enough to disguise his erection.
"Oh, hang on!" he yelled. "You were just- and I was-" he pulled back quickly, standing over top me.
I stared at him in surprise, but feeling the hardness of his dick made my pussy clench, and I immediately wanted to feel it again. Liam's eyes were pure panic, but as mine began to spell out my desires, I saw his begin to wander my body.