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. "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 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.
