âHey, sweety, how ya doinâ?â
Kaylaâs 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 didnât stop.
âHey, baby, ainât you fucking
gorgeous
! Whatâs a little girl like you doing out here?â
Kayla walked faster, as fast as she could on the wooden catwalk on her high heels. It made matters worse that she didnât 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 didnât 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 wasnât sure if she should have turned there, orâŠ
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 couldnât identify⊠it had been awhile since she had seen anyone; it was getting late, and most of the workers had left the jobsite already.
âWell, well, well, looks like youâre lost, little lady? Need some help?â
Kayla gasped and turned to see the same four brutes who had been leering at her before. She wasnât 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.
âYou are one sweet little bitch, arenât you?â
The others guffawed at the Leaderâs rough comment; Kayla gasped in outrage and blushed red down to her tits.
âFuck you, asshole!â She snapped. âJust show me the way out of here before I have you fired.â
TheRingleader laughed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into him. All she saw was bright white teeth beneath his thick black moustache as she instantly surrendered to him. Her hands went up weakly, and wound up resting against his chest as she gasped again, looking away, unable to look at him, ashamed at how easily she had responded to him. His big, rough hand grasped her bottom and he looked back at his crew.
âDonât let her fool you boys. The little slut is so hot for it, she can hardly stand it.â
The other three laughed, and started pulling off their clothes as the leader roughly pulled off Kaylaâs blouse and skirt, leaving her standing in her black lace push up bra, gstring and stockings. All four men stopped and stared at the perfect little angel panting and whimpering like a complete slut for their cocks. Then they rushed in on her.
Kayla didnât apprehend much as she was forced to her knees before them; a Spanish looking man covered in snake tattoos, a fat, hairy sweaty bastard with a big uncut cock⊠the Ringleader had a fistful of her shining hair, and forced her head over to a huge, erect black cock. A big black fist grabbed the hair offered by the Ringleader, and a deep voice spoke. âWhoâs your Daddy, little white bitch?â