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From: Nick <nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk>
Subject: {ASS} "Builders" by Nick (FM voy)
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Builders by Nick

(c) July 1998

This story is intended for adults and contains explicit sex scenes. If
it is illegal for you to read such literature for whatever reason then
don't.

This is distributed for entertainment purposes only and the copyright
belongs solely to the author (Nick). You may copy, store and pass it
on, but you may not alter it or make any money out of it without the
authors permission.

Any comments e-mail me at Nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk
-----------------------------------

This story is written from the point of view of the British working
class male. Some words and phrases may or may not travel the Atlantic
too well, and so I provide a brief glossary just in case:

"cramps your style" - restricts ones ability to attract sexually available
women.
"bird" - young woman, considered sexually available
"page three girl" - "bird" with status
"Phwoar" - an expression of delight
"crumpet" - see "bird", but more of a collective noun
"knackered" - very tired (literally castrated)
"totty" - see "crumpet"
"cracker" - someone with the ability to become a "page three girl"
"arse" - bottom
"ponces" - management

Now read on:

No more manual labour for me. It's office work from now on!

This morning I was up and out at 6:30 again. Play's hell with your
love-life that ("Not tonight sweetheart, early start in the morning.")
Trouble is it's every day of the week (or was.) I like clubbing, me,
dancing 'til three in the morning, bringing back a different bird each
night. You have to stay in bed 'til midday to sustain the lifestyle,
though, and just going out on Fridays and Saturdays really cramps your
style!

If I missed the works bus that's it. There's no other way to the site
at that time of the morning, and if you're so much as a minute after
8:00 then you're out. No appeal, no excuses, no job security. The bus
drives round the place picking up the others and every morning we'd go
through the same ritual: a comparison of the size of the tits of
todays "page three girl" with those of Barry's wife, an in depth
discussion of the football and/or the sexual exploits of Cindy in
"Eastenders", and a few mucky stories.

This morning Gus was telling us about a place he'd worked before. The
lads had stood on the scaffolding "yelling encouragement" at some
crumpet on a bicycle, and she'd turned around, completely unphased and
said "there's only room for one cunt in these shorts!"

We all fell about laughing.

I don't believe half the stuff Gus tells us. He's our foreman and has
been around a lot, sure, but since his lad got a computer and a
connection to the internet, his fund of stories has become even more
improbable.

Anyway, onward and upward. We had some good times, but I'll probably
never see Gus or any of the lads again. I'm going to work 9 to 5 and
not come home knackered in the evening. I'm going to earn twice as
much money as I did before (eventually anyway) and the best part is
that there will be women on tap. All hot and gagging for it.

Not that working on a building site doesn't have it's advantages. For
one thing, I am incredibly fit and my muscle tone is far better than
most guys my age, without the need to "work out". It impresses the
birds, I know. When I do go clubbing, I always wear something to show
off my hard-earned physique, and I'm never short of attention from the
fairer sex.

Today was hot - in pretty well as many ways as you could imagine.
Apart from the mandatory hard hat, heavy boots and gloves, most of the
lads attire consisted of just shorts. Mine were, of course, slightly
more flash than anyone else's, and slightly less substantial too.
After all, one should always look ones best whatever the situation,
and crumpet is always on the lookout, especially around a building
site. One had to be a little careful not to look *too* good, though -
I had noticed funny looks from some of the guys!

Come the 11:00 coffee break, I'd been working for 3 hours non-stop (at
least that's what I let Gus think). I sat down with the lads on a pile
of bricks in the sun and started on my Coke. Suddenly Barry started
making a noise like a police siren.

"Totty alert! Totty alert!"

We all followed his gaze. I must have been overdoing it. I can
normally smell decent crumpet a mile off, but I'd missed this one. She
was a cracker!

She had that way of walking that made everything jiggle, and her
purple miniskirt fluttered above a pair of legs to die for.

"You missed that one, Kev," someone said.

I would have said something like "not my type" in order to maintain my
reputation, but for two things. First, for this girl not to be
anyone's type he would have had to be gay, and second my slack jaw had
already given me away. There was nothing for it. Dropping my
half-empty can I ran over to the wire barrier that isolated us from
the general public (ostensibly to protect them from falling bricks,
but in truth some of the guys in there are animals - not myself I
hasten to add).

"Hey darling is this your lucky day!" I entwined my fingers in the
mesh as she walked past. She quickened her pace slightly, all part of
the game. I ran ahead of her.

"Give me your number and we can make beautiful music together this
evening! Whaddya say?"

She kept her eyes straight ahead as she walked on, nearing the end of
the fence and safety. Desperate measures, were called for. I dropped
to one knee theatrically.

"If you walk away now, you'll break a young mans heart!"

Cracked it! A flicker of a smile played on those beautiful lips and
her eyes met mine.

"OI, YOU! Just what do you think you're playing at!!"

I looked round angrily to see Gus striding towards me over the rubble.
I looked back at the girl but she had already stepped off the curb and
was walking away, the breeze playing wickedly with that tiny skirt.

Shit!

He approached me, face like thunder. "You know it's in your contract
*not* to pester members of the public!"

"But Gus..." I knew that, but it was one of those things nobody ever
took any notice of.

"Shut up!" to my surprise he didn't seem to be joking! "If I catch you
doing anything like that again, you're out. Do you understand?"

"But Gus..." I repeated.

"I *said* do you understand!?"

I nodded. Even I knew better than to argue.

"Good, now get back to work. I want you up top, I'm going to drop a
couple of pallets of breeze blocks there and I want someone to guide
them down and unpack them OK."

He turned and walked away, leaving me to rejoin the lads who were now
idly kicking stones around, pretending not to have noticed anything.

"What's got into him?" I asked no-one in particular, "he's normally
the worst of the lot!"

"Management meeting, I think," said Barry, "I saw a herd of them
earlier this morning. Gus and few others were called in. Seems the
ponces think we pay too much attention to passing trade and not enough
on our jobs. Getting the firm a *bad name*, whatever that means!" He
spat dispiritedly. "Bastards!"

I shinned up the scaffolding to the top of the building and made my
way over to the spot were Gus wanted the breeze blocks. There was an
office block right next to the site, all glass and designer concrete.
The block we were building was going to take all their light away and
was going to be taller. As it was, we were already level with the top
floors. Not that it mattered. They were all internally lit and the
people inside had no business staring out of windows anyway. If I had
to work hard, then why shouldn't they?

I stopped and signalled to Jake in the crane's cab, that I was ready.
Gently he swung the pallet of blocks which hung dangerously from the
rig over in my direction. This was a slow process since he had to
compensate for the momentum of his load, and as I waited I glanced
idly into one of the office windows. There was a movement as a face
disappeared quickly behind the blinds.

I smiled to myself. "It works both ways," I thought.

I turned away from the building so as not to "frighten the horses",
and as I turned my attention back to the pallet, which was now almost
directly overhead, I caught sight of some panes of reflective glass
which had already been unloaded and were leaning against a girder. I
could see my own reflection, and behind it the window I had seen my
mysterious admirer in. She was there again.

I raised my arms and indicated to Jake to start lowering, adopting a
stance that would show off my physique to her. This was a serious
business, and I didn't want Jake to crash the blocks into the
structure, or her office, or, worse still, to land them on top of me!
I couldn't, therefore, watch her reaction to me, but I knew
nevertheless what effect it would be having on her.

Gently, I beckoned the pallet down until it landed exactly where I
wanted it. Then I clambered up on top of it to release the hook, so
that Jake could get the next load. As I did so, I allowed myself to
look at that reflection.

She was still there alright, and I could see I was having the desired
effect. Her eyes were glazed and her mouth was slack and her hand...

I did a double-take.

Her hand was actually manipulating her breast.

I decided to give her the show of her life, and as I climbed up, I
made sure that I made it look as difficult as possible, stretching my
legs for a foothold and given her the best view of my well-muscled
buttocks that I could. I can't normally see them of course, but from
what feedback I've had from birds, I know my arse to be one of my best
features.

I released the hook and signalled to Jake, standing atop the load like
an Adonis.

I waved to Jake, and then without warning, turned and waved to her,
smiling disarmingly as I did so. I saw her eyes widen suddenly in
horror as she retreated out of sight once more. I shrugged, loosened
the cables and leapt catlike down from the top. If I knew women, she'd
be back.

I started to dismantle the pallet, taking the blocks out one at a time
and placing them where they would be most convenient for the
"brickies" who would follow. As I worked in the sun droplets of sweat
started to run down my body, covering it with a glistening sheen which
I knew no woman would be able to resist.

Without looking, I raised my hand in acknowledgement when I knew she
had returned. Her need making her more brazen now that she'd been
found out. She now stood fully framed in the window, rather than to
one side as before, and so I stood up and faced her with one of my
winning smiles. This time she smiled back, waving shyly.

I shifted more of the blocks, flexing my muscles unnecessarily and
occasionally glancing in her direction. With each glance, she was
getting more and more involved. I could see her hand, at first simply
massaging the breast as before, then working away at her nipple with
her fingers. Her other hand... well I couldn't see that, it was below
the window frame, but I could tell from her movements and her
increasingly glazed expression what *that* was doing!

As I worked, I wondered. Most of these offices were open-plan, and
normally no-one could expect to stand in front of a window
masturbating without a colleague spotting what was going on! It
occurred to me suddenly that this was the top floor and as such only
occupied by senior staff in individual offices.

This woman was no typist or secretary!

I paused and stood upright, mopping my brow as I studied her. This
time it was my turn to stare. She was now slowly unbuttoning her
blouse.

Each button opened, and the front of her bra was unclasped. Gently she
pulled the now loosened garment aside. My eyes widened.

She closed her eyes as her hands worked at her breasts, her fingers
manipulating her exposed nipple. I could see her body thrusting and
her mouth open as she cried out soundlessly through the glass.

Suddenly she pressed both hands against the window and was staring at
me, breathing hard. I stared back at her, my own hand pressed against
the crotch of my shorts, discreetly relieving my own mounting tension.

She was signalling to me.

What was it she wanted me to do? Slowly it dawned on me. She wanted me
to remove my own shorts and stand naked in front of her!

Well I could understand that, but who the hell did she think I was!
Did she seriously think I was going to prance around naked on top of
half-constructed building for the whole city to watch? Apart from
anything else, right then I had a hard-on which would have been more
of a blot on the skyline than Jake's crane!

I smiled at her and shook my head. Besides, glancing up, I could see
that Jake was coming with the next pallet and I had to concentrate.

When I looked again she was gone.

As I offloaded the second pallet I glanced occasionally at the window
but she never reappeared. "Oh well," I thought, "she'd probably 'shot
her load' anyway," but I was a little disappointed that she appeared
to have lost interest in me so completely.

I had the shock of my life when I felt Gus' hand on my shoulder.

"Right you! Off my site!"

"What?"

"You heard!" he growled menacingly, "I've warned you once today
already about pestering the public, and now I've had a complaint from
these good people!" he indicated the office block. "You can collect
your outstanding wages from the site office, they should be ready
now."

"But..."

Gus lost it.

"GET OUT OF HERE NOW YOU LITTLE SHIT!" his face was red.

I needed no further clarification and started the climb down to
unemployment. I stole one last glance at the office window as I left.
She was there again now, blouse buttoned up to the neck this time, her
face expressionless.

There was, of course, no point in wishing I'd taken my shorts off as
requested. I'm not the kind of guy who goes around moaning at
injustice. So now I've found out the name of the firm that occupies
that building and I've applied to work for them there. OK, so I'll
have to start at the bottom, but I'm determined to work my way up and
get a position in one of those offices on the top floor.

I'm hoping this will happen sooner rather than later.



If you want to comment e-mail me at Nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk





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