Big Red #3 Construction Carnival

Big Red's SUV crunched into the driveway, the August sun gluing her dress to her sticky-hot ass as she slid out. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin, her cheeks on full display for the construction crew working just outside her house.

Three men froze mid-task, their tools dropping to the ground as they took in the sight of her.

Short Stack, 5'4", biceps like cinderblocks, his hard hat tilted back as he whistled low.

Lanky Larry, 6'5", his neck tattoo of a skull with "MOM" glistening with sweat, his Monster Energy can slipping from his grip.

Gutbucket Gus, 350 pounds of Dorito dust and dad energy, his mouth hanging open as he wiped his brow.

"Goddamn, Jimmy," Gus muttered, his voice rough as gravel. "Ain't seen a dump truck that fine since Phoenix."

Big Red fumbled her keys, bending over to snatch them up. Her dress hiked higher, revealing a pink thong digging into the soft flesh of her ass. Larry choked on his drink, his voice cracking as he croaked, "Fuckin' Eclipse."

Red blushed, hip-checking the car door shut with a smirk. She scurried inside, throwing a flirtatious glance over her shoulder that left the crew staring after her like hungry wolves.

•••••

At noon, the crew huddled on her porch, peering through the blinds as Big Red dusted her china cabinet, completely naked. Her tits swayed with every movement, her nipples stiff and begging for attention.

Short Stack knocked on the door, his voice shaky. "Ma'am? Uh...we noticed your foundation's cracked. Mind if we...inspect?"

She flung the door open, leaning against the frame with a smirk. Her nipples brushed against Gus's Dairy Queen-stained shirt as she purred, "Guys need a break? AC's broken." She fanned herself with a National Geographic, her lie dripping with mischief. "Gotta stay...cool."

The crew didn't need to be told twice.

•••••

Gus planted her on the kitchen counter, spreading her knees like a wishbone. "Let's survey the site," he grunted, his tongue drilling into her clit as Short Stack rammed two fingers into her ass.

"Gimme that squeal, bitch!" Larry demanded, filming on his cracked iPhone. He slapped her tit with a measuring tape, his voice dripping with awe. "44 Double D! Just like my ex!"

Big Red moaned, her body writhing as the men worked her over. Gus's tongue was relentless, his hands gripping her thighs as he devoured her.

Short Stack's fingers curled inside her, his other hand gripping her hip as he whispered, "You're overdue for pipe insulation."

Larry stepped forward, his cock already hard and glistening as he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust inside.

"Fuck harder, skyscraper!" she howled, her body arching as he pounded into her with a rhythm that matched his nail gun.

Short Stack climbed onto the counter, squatting over her face. "Lick my load-bearing beam, slut!" he growled, his sweat dripping into her nostrils as she obeyed, her tongue lapping at his cock and balls.

Now, Gus took his turn and drilled into her with a force that made the counter shake. "You're a fucking masterpiece," he grunted, his hands gripping her tits as he flooded her cervix.

---

When they finally zipped up, Larry tossed her a Shop-Vac with a wink. "Next crew's break at three," he said, pocketing her thong. "Stay dirty, sugar."

Big Red collapsed on her sectional, her body trembling as she grinned at the ceiling fan's squeak. Outside, a new crew unloaded their tools, their eyes darting toward the house. One of them waved a shovel, his smirk promising more to come.

The doorbell rang at 3:01 PM.

Big Red answered wearing nothing but a toolbelt, her curves on full display. "Y'all here to dig?" she purred, her voice dripping with mischief.

TWO DAYS LATER

Interstate 4 stretched endlessly ahead, the Florida sun baking the asphalt as Big Red leaned back in the passenger seat, her robe barely clinging to her curves. Her husband drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes darting to her exposed flesh every few seconds.

"You're killing me in that thing," her husband said, his voice low and rough as his hand slid under the robe to grope her thigh.

Marla smirked, her red lips curling into a sneer. "You're the one who said we should find some trouble."

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Trouble's what we do best."

That's when they spotted it, a construction site just off the highway, orange cones and blinking signs marking the work zone. A crew of five men lounged on a Jersey barrier, their grease-streaked bodies glistening under the midday sun.

Her husband pulled over, the car idling as Marla flung open the robe, her mammoth curves jiggling with the movement.

"Go nuts, babe," he said, his grin widening.

Marla stepped out of the car, the robe flapping open as she sauntered toward the crew. The men froze, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of her.

A tattooed giant with a bullring in his nose was the first to speak. "Lunch just arrived," he growled, crushing a water can in his fist.

Marla laughed, her tits bouncing with the movement. "You boys hungry?"

The crew descended on her like vultures, their hands gripping her hips as they dragged her behind the rig. The foreman--a stubby brute with a pickaxe tattoo--barked orders, his voice sharp and commanding.

"Spread 'er," he said, his hands digging into her ass cheeks as he peeled them apart.

A rookie dropped to his knees, his tongue spearing her asshole with a wet, sloppy sound. Marla cackled, grinding into his face as the crew cheered. "Fuck, he's starved!" she yelled.

The lanky electrician guided her onto the hood of a backhoe, the metal warm against her skin. He spread her legs, his tongue lapping at her dripping cunt as another worker kneaded her tits, his fingers pinching her nipples until they were raw.

"Double shift!" Marla screamed, her hands gripping the foreman's beard as he shoved his girthy cock into her mouth.

The crew rotated, their calloused hands kneading her dimpled thighs and soft belly.

After lowering her back to the ground, the foreman mounted her from behind, his cock slapping against her ass with a rhythmic THWACK-THWACK-THWACK as the electrician grabbed her hair, ramming his knobbed cock down her throat.

A smaller laborer crawled beneath her, his lips wrapping around her painted red toes as he jerked himself off, pre-cum drizzling onto her ankle.

Marla kicked him in the chest, laughing. "Harder, pipsqueak!"

The crew worked her over, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of her body. When they finally came, it was with a roar, their cum flooding her depths and coating her lips.

Horns blared in the distance, signaling the end of lunch break. Her husband pulled up, wolf-whistling as Marla stumbled back to the car, her robe shredded and her hair matted with spunk and gravel.

"Good break?" her husband asked, nodding at the crew, now zombie-eyed and stumbling.

Marla collapsed into the passenger seat, grinning like a hyena. As they peeled onto the highway, she slid her hand into his pants and rubbed his cock, smiling.