“Hey, sweety, how ya doin’?”
Kayla’s heart beat a little faster. Ooo, God, go away, you sweaty animals, she thought, clutching the blueprints to her full, pert tits and trying to ignore them. The construction workers didn’t stop.
“Hey, baby, ain’t you fucking
gorgeous
! What’s a little girl like you doing out here?”
Kayla walked faster, as fast as she could on the wooden catwalk on her high heels. It made matters worse that she didn’t quite know where she was going; it was a huge construction site, and her boss was somewhere in it, waiting for the blueprints she carried. Soon she was past the nasty, hairy thugs who were leering at her, though, and she shook out her long, thick hair in self-satisfaction.
At 19, Kayla was the youngest secretary in her architecture firm, and by far the prettiest. Her impossibly sweet face and perfect little body earned her the lust of all the men in the office and the resentment of most of the women. So, she usually got stuck with chores like this one by the more senior secretaries; she avenged herself by dressing even sexier and getting even more attention from the men. Today, she was wearing what could have been a conservative grey tweed business suit… if the skirt hem came down a few inches, and the unbuttoned blouse didn’t show off a little flash of black lace and a curve of pert tit. Now and then, the skirt would ride up far enough to show the lace top of a stocking, and Kayla would top to wiggle and pull it back down again.
Soon the blueprints were delivered to the impatient boss, and Kayla was making her way back to her car. Somehow, though, things looked different going the other way… she wasn’t sure if she should have turned there, or…
Kayla stamped her little foot in frustration, pulling off her jacket. Lost. What a pain… she followed the catwalk she was on past big concrete walls, strange machines she couldn’t identify… it had been awhile since she had seen anyone; it was getting late, and most of the workers had left the jobsite already.
“Well, well, well, looks like you’re lost, little lady? Need some help?”
Kayla gasped and turned to see the same four brutes who had been leering at her before. She wasn’t sure why, but her heart started pounding again. As the men approached her, her eyes fixed involuntarily on the leader. Her breathing quickened as she took him in… the tanned skin, the hairy chest showing beneath his open denim shirt… the coarse stubble, the mustache, the rough look of him. Kayla generally considered herself well out of the league of construction-worker types; she dated architects. But she found herself nervous as the Leader stopped too close to her and hooked his thumbs in his belt, looking her up and down.
“You are one sweet little bitch, aren’t you?”
