Fearing what might happen if you resisted, you decided to head for work, if only to buy yourself some more time. Tina had already programmed the address of the jobsite into you phone, so when you turned it on, you quickly got a notification asking you if you needed directions to work. You pressed "yes" with your delicate finger, and followed the prompts which took you to work. Fortunately, the jobsite wasn't far from your apartment, as you felt completely out of sorts with your massive melons heaving and jiggling with each and every step. The walk was certainly eventful, as you could feel the eyes and lecherous stares of every person cascade over you as they passed you by. These stares, while disconcerting for you in the moment, had an even more unnerving cumulative effect. The more people that gawked at you, the more you felt a heat build within you, specifically, a heat which radiated from your loins. What started as a shiver and a twinge was already bordering on a dull warmth that was slowly spreading throughout your nether region. You pressed your thighs together as you felt your pussy start to moisten and dampen your panties. This must have been what Tina was referencing. The more people stared at your tits, the more aroused you became. "Shit," you thought to yourself, "this is going to be a serious problem if this gets much worse."
Momentarily ignoring that unpleasant reality, you noticed that you had arrived at the jobsite where you followed the signs for the office, pausing for a moment as you reached the door to the office trailer. You steeled your resolve as you prepared to walk in. "I just need to focus on work and get a lay of the land," you planned. "Once I get to know who's who, I'll figure out who is most likely to pay attention for fifteen minutes." With a deep breath, you opened the door to be greeted by a handful of constructions workers talking to a large man seated behind a desk. Upon opening the door, the men fell silent as they turned to you, jaws nearly hitting the floor as they not so subtly drank in your visage.
"And who might yooooou be?" said one of the men in a way that was more come on than question.
"Hey, knock it off Sanchez," said the man behind the table. "This is my new assistant. Disrespect her and you disrespect me."
At that, the men all roared in laughter. "Whatever you say, boss," Sanchez replied. "I'm sure she takes great dictation." And with that, the whistle mercifully blew, and the men head out to begin their shift. Their stares as they walked past you were lewd and not at all disguised. Some of the men even winked at you as they passed. All those stares at once caused the warmth you felt before turn into a sharp heat, which prompted your knees to buckle as you could feel yourself soak through your thong. You bit your lower lip as you steadied yourself and attempted to appear nonplussed.
The man stepped out from behind the desk, and walked over to you, hand extended. "My name is Chuck Doral. I'm the foreman here. You'll be reporting to me. It's a pleasure to meet you." You extended a fragile hand which he quickly engulfed in a much larger, rougher, and more calloused hand as he gave you a friendly handshake. You couldn't help but notice how the man towered over you. He was large in every way that you were small, standing at least six and a half feet tall, with a torso shaped like a barrel. He was clearly middle aged, fat, and with a gruff salt and pepper beard, but mostly salt.
"And what is your name," he continued.
"Kimi," you squeaked. "Kimi Fujiyama."
"Well, then, welcome aboard Kimi. We're glad to have you, and boy do we need the help."
Mr. Doral proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes or so explaining the work that Kimi would be performing, which amounted mostly to simple clerical tasks: making copies, sending letters, paying invoices, and managing timesheets. The work wouldn't prove to be any sort of challenge, however, just getting through the day may. Even though you knew that Mr. Doral was attempting to be polite and not gawk at the tits on a stick that just walked into his office, you continually noticed him catching furtive glances at your burgeoning chest. This prompted the heat building inside of you to burn even hotter. You could feel your wetness begin to trickle down your now glistening thighs.
Mr. Doral finally finished his explanation and showed you to your desk, promising to give you the full tour of the site at lunch. You quickly sat down at your desk, seeking refuge behind your computer monitor. Mr. Doral had started you off with a simple task: take the sign in forms from the past few weeks and enter them into an Excel spreadsheet. The mundane task was a relief to you, as you felt it would give you a moment to decompress, and hopefully to allow the heat to subside. If it didn't, you were going to be in a difficult situation, as the current state of your arousal had you bordering on crazed. You continually crossed, uncrossed, and recrossed your legs, seemingly in an attempt to put out the fire. Nothing was providing relief, however, and you found the otherwise simple task was unexpectedly difficult.
What do you do?   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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