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From: seamus@zdnetmail.co.uk (Seamus)
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Subject: {ASSM} Love among the Quandongs - Seamus (F/M voy mildFD PM)
Date: Thu, 31 Aug 2000 08:10:02 -0400
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This story features project management, mild femdom, voyeurism
and romantic sex.
Please do not read it if you shouldn't read this type of story.
If you want to repost this, put it on a web site or do anything
else with it please check first with Seamus@zdnetmail.co.uk
Love Amongst the Quandongs
by Seamus
Copyright Seamus August 2000
I really wanted to do engineering but Dad said it wasn't suitable
for girls. Architecture was too flighty so I became a surveyor. I
told him it was like being an accountant and he was happy.
Here I was on my first job. One month out of college and I'm
on a building site, part of the team making a landmark to last a
hundred years. At last!
I'm nearly the youngest and certainly the smallest on the team
but I've been briefed. I'm representing the client here and my
employers. I'm entitled to respect and must insist upon it.
I'm not on my own here of course but on a project this size we
share out the work and I'm responsible for the ground works
contract. Five million pounds worth of everything from digging
the foundations to the landscaping.
First day there I'm into a contract meeting. The architect has
changed the building. The engineer says he will have to
redesign the foundations and the contractor wants it minuted
that this will cause a delay and additional cost and he wants a
change instruction. Then they all look at me.
I spend the rest of the day reading the contract, trying to find
out what I'm meant to be doing.
Next morning my boss calls me aside for a quiet word. The
client has heard the foundations are in delay and the contractor
has put in a claim for more money. They're depending on me to
keep it on track. I'm not just a quantity surveyor, I must project
manage this contract. What have I let myself in for?
After lunch my site safety boots are delivered - the smallest in
the boot room I notice - and I get a hard hat and high visibility
jacket and head out on site. It looks like the ante room to hell.
Acres of mud stretch in all directions under steel grey clouds
with occasional buildings being attacked by enormous yellow
machines. Everywhere are men doing things. Shouting, waving,
driving the machines.
"Hey sonny what you doing?" It's the contractor from the
meeting yesterday.
"Oh it's you Miss Patil. What are you doing here."
I pull myself up to my full 5ft and look him in the eye "My
job".
He looks down and gives me a smile and his eyes twinkle soo
blue. He's Patrick and he's old enough to be my father. He
walks me round the site.
We go up in the crane to get a view out over the site but first I
have to put on a safety harness - like a mountaineering harness.
Patrick helps me tighten the straps until I'm being squeezed all
round by these straps then we go up a ladder to a tiny platform
a mile up in the air. I am scared by the height, a freezing wind is
blowing at me trying to push me off. Patrick comes up the
ladder behind me and I feel him behind me from my neck to my
ankles. His arms around me as he grips the hand rail in front of
me.
I feel like a god, flying above the little ant people far below.
Yes! This is what I want.
CHARLES
The problem, I discover, is Charles the architect. Charles is
brilliant. It must be so; he told me himself. From his desk we
get a constant stream of wonderful drawings. The problem is
no two are the same. He can't make up his mind.
I corner him one evening when the site office is quiet (Everyone
else starts at eight and goes down the Pub at five. Charles
wanders in after nine and stays till seven).
"We need some answers Charles. When will you get out the
rest of the information?" I say.
"What do you think of this?" he asks.
"Charles" Swish. Smack. In my nervousness I had picked up a
ruler. Now I brought it down on the drawing board. It makes a
surprisingly loud smack. Charles jumps and stares at the ruler
like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
I feel a sudden twinge in my crotch and notice a lump in
Charles'.
I rub up against him. " Which is it Charles? This" swish,
SMACK "or this?" swish, SMACK.
"Eh This one?"
"Very good Charles. See you get the drawings issued by
morning"
I make one last rub up against him and leave.
I'm feeling so excited I can hardly drive to my digs and I spend
half the night masturbating furiously and imagining flogging
Charles to a pulp.
Next day the drawings are on my desk though the top one has a
funny stain.
JOHN
John is the engineer. If Charles was an endless stream of
drawings then John is an endless stream of talk. Everything has
to be done by the book and John has an endless stream of
reasons why his calculations aren't done. He sits at his desk
across from me all day typing away at his computer but nothing
ever comes out.
I want to try the rubbing up against him but the way he's sitting
I can't get near him. I don't really fancy it anyway. Charles is
beautiful and delicate but John is old and sweaty. I figure it out
eventually. I come in one day in a suit and instead of trousers. I
notice he's looks away every time I look up.
He's directly opposite me so only he can see under my desk. I
decide to try something.
"John. When will those calcs be ready" I ask.
"Well. These things cannot be rushed. Our quality assurance
procedures .."
I open my legs so my skirt rides up until he can see my panties
and his logorrhoea dries up in mid flow.
"Er" he mutters
"Tomorrow?" I ask.
"Eh?"
"You'd do that for me?" I ask rubbing my stockinged legs
together.
"Er. Yes. Of course"
Now whenever after he starts to bluster I just rub my legs
together and he loses track of what he was saying.
CHARLES AND JOHN
It's not Charles or John I fantasise about. Once a week Patrick
and I square off in the contract meeting.
"What do you mean it's an extra" I'll shout. " The contract
specified matched 5 year old Quandongs not less than 2 metres
tall. We've changed it to Nasturtiums you can get in any garden
centre!".
The arguments really get my adrenaline going. After the
meeting I am so horny. "Charles." I say "Can you stay behind a
minute please. There's something I want to got through with
you." I wait while the others leave the meeting room. " John.
Please see we are not disturbed."
John goes out of the room and closes the door but I make sure
he sees me unbuttoning my blouse before the door closes.
Charles is standing by the door looking confused. I walk up to
him and slap him on his right cheek as hard as I can. CRACK
.
"Lie down and get you meat out." By the time he is lying down
and struggling to get his swollen penis out of his pants I have
shed my clothes. I kick him and scream "Hurry up. Get it out".
His head is nearly touching the door. I know John is watching
through the keyhole and has a view of the entire scene. I squat
down, impale myself on Charles' prick and start pump up and
down as fast as I can slapping his face and screaming at him -
"Harder", SMACK, "Grab my asscheeks", SMACK, "Tighter",
SMACK.
I come and come, spurting on his trousers. I'm up off him and
dressed while he is still lying on the floor, his cheeks glowing
and a surprised look on his face. I open the door and catch John
peeping. "Come on boys back to work" I say and sweep out. In
the loo (the ladies toilet on a building site is always quiet) I pull
up my skirt and check out the marks on my bum where Charles'
grabbed me.
PATRICK
Patrick played out those damn quandongs for months. He'd
ordered them. They were in a nursery in Singapore labelled and
ready to ship and if we cancelled the order we wouldn't get a
refund - we would have to pay extra.
He always makes it sound so reasonable.
The months whiz by and finally we are in sight of the end. The
sprinkler systems are to be commissioned and Patrick and I will
be witnessing it on behalf of the contractor and the client.
I'm wearing a `little girl' summer frock but I'm all business.
"Show me these damn Quandongs then. Let's see what we got
for all that money." Patrick leads me into the far corner of the
garden. There is no one else around - Charles designed this
corner of the gardens as a private spot.
I lead him down under the ha ha out of sight then get myself
soaked by the sprinklers so my dress clings to me like Lolita in
that movie.
I start a belly dance, undulating my hips as I walk towards him
then plaster my wet body against him.
He tries to push me away. "We can't. No. It's not right" he
stumbles. "I'm too old for you. When your my age I'll be
walking with a zimmer frame"
My eyes are barely level with his chin. I look up at him and
pout while rubbing his chest with my hands. I can feel his penis
hard against my belly. I know I'm getting to him. I undo his belt
buckle and free his penis then sink to my knees to take it in my
mouth.
When he starts to pump I let go and lie back on the bank, my
dress around my waist. He enters me and we make love. I feel
him inside me slowly pumping in and out bringing me to
orgasm once, twice, three times before I feel him come inside
me and we lie in each others arms in the shade beneath the
quandongs.
Seamus
August 2000
Contact Seamus@zdnetmail.co.uk
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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