The story is based on my memories from back in 1992. Back then I was working as a caretaker in a public school.
A coworker of mine was a strange guy with a lot of strange story's back from the old days in the steel mill. He even had published a book about the life in mill, mostly a book with a lot of black and white pictures.
One day we was visiting a plumber store. Some students had a great idea, probably trying to be funny so they poured cement in the sink on Friday afternoon and of course the sink had to be replaced.
We went over to the desk to place an order. Behind the desk there was a nice woman in early fifties. Quite fit and hot. I could easy imagine her very hot 10 years ago.
Back in car my coworker laughed. He said he had seen me looking at her like I was a dog and she was a bitch in heat. He laughed of his own comment.
He told me she was married with the big boss, the CEO as they call it today, of the old steel mill. The mill where I used to work. She got divorced, 5 guys, me included, got fired. I looked at him, he smiled. We fucked her, big boss found proof, she got divorced and we got fired.
I looked at him and laughed. Without a word he started the car and we drove back to our school and the cemented sink.
Next day after lunch he showed me an thick envelope. His hand moved it across the table towards me. He blinked.
I opened it, found a photo album. On front there was a big yellow blinking smiley. He said this was the unpublished pictures form the life in the steel mill.
Page one, a picture of her...a black and white picture. She was nice and neat dressed. Classy skirt and blouse. Quite like a secretary. She was hot, had a beautiful smile and she had this "thing". I find it difficult to describe, some women has "sex" written all over them.
He told me she was the hottest girl in town in her young days and still is. Of course she got married to the big man in the mill. Rich, big house but a really boring economist. His humor was dry as Sahara and he could make a person go crazy of boredom after a 5 minutes conversation. But he was good running the mill.
His wife worked as a coordinator in the mill, booking meetings, fixing conference rooms and stuff like that. She was the opposite of her husband. Flirty, laughing, happy and sexy.
I turned over to next page in the album. Next picture, also black and white. She in the middle, light grey skirt, short end tight, white blouse. And two dirty guys in helmets, coveralls and safety shoes. She was laughing, all of her face was laughing.
He continued to talk as I looked at the picture, described how things developed over the years. How her small flirting with the guys developed from small hints and blinks to more daring and how the comments from the guys developed from small comments about her beauty to more direct comments regarding her body.
Again I turned to a new page. In this picture she was in front of a desk, leaning forward over and had a pen in her hand. A quite normal position in an office. Only except from the fact that her head was turned backward and she smiled, looked straight into the camera and blinked.
As I looked at the pictures my coworker told me that he got a good relation with her. How he back then was a talented photographer and how she enjoyed his attention with the camera and that all the pictures was taken with her permission.
I turned to the next page, I was quite eager. At this page there was two pictures. She was in a mechanical workshop. In the first picture she was holding a grease gun in one of her hands. She had a devilish smile and a spoonful of grease in her other hand. In the other picture she sent the photographer a teasing smile as she rubbed the grease with her fingers.
As I looked at the pictures he explained how things developed over years. How her flirting got more raw and how the guys, like in these pictures, introduced her to different things in the workshop. Like the grease gun. How they at this day, before the picture was taken, told her that the grease was Vaseline. And as they responded to her more direct flirting she responded to their sexual attention. A mutual joy is the right words.
I turned over to a new page, eager to see the next picture. It was in a break room where the guys ate their lunch. She was sitting at the table with the guys. I noticed that it was the same guys in all the pictures. Four guys and the photographer. She held a banana in her hand and the tip in her mouth.
My coworker continued the talking, but I did not listen much.