It's Not Work if You Love It!

Job motivation escalates through showing off

This was originally a background piece for a longer story, but it seemed to grow to a story by itself. So, I developed it fully. I don't remember now what the original story was, except to show the main character wasn't always a conservative repressed woman.

I mention a 'brew' frequently and it's a British term for a mug of tea or coffee.

A special thanks to RF-Fast for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in good shape.

It's not work if you love it!

Ultimatum and compromise

Unlike most of my friends growing up, I managed to avoid any real jobs before I turned 18. I was too busy having fun and doing more with my boyfriends than my parents would have approved of. But at 18, my golden ticket to a free ride with my parents was abruptly torn up.

I'd no plans for further education and they had been hinting strongly about my getting a job. The straw that broke the camel's back was my dad coming home from work with a toothache to find his 18-year-old daughter, naked and sucking off a guy nearly my dad's age. I thought I might be kicked out on the street, but rather than admit to mum what he'd caught me doing. He gave me an ultimatum. Get a job and get my own place.

But 18-year-olds with zero experience and no leverageable hobbies don't get a lot of job offers. I'd be lucky to get a job as a cleaner, and I really didn't want to end up cleaning the u-bends on strangers' toilets. I applied for jobs with no response until I applied for a barmaid at a club with a dubious reputation. My dad went mad that I'd done that.

After my dad rejected my chance at a job as a barmaid, he made some calls to help me out. A few days later, he told me he'd found me a job. I'd have to interview, but it was virtually a done deal. It was as a receptionist for a local garage.

"Uncle Harry's place?" I asked.

He wasn't my real uncle, but I knew him when I was tiny, and almost all adults were referred to as an uncle or aunt. Mum scowled. "What?" I asked.

Dad stepped in to explain. "About 5 or 6 years ago your mum and I used to socialise with a crowd of people, including Harry." He gave mum a slight grin. "We used to drink more in those days and when Harry was drunk, he used to make it clear he fancied your mum..."

"And you never said anything to stop him." She accused him.

Dad went on, "I think our daughter is old enough to know that I think her mum's sexy." Mum flushed. "I've been telling your mum that since we first met, but sometimes I don't think she believes me. So having Harry, as a third party, tell her..."

"He kissed me and goosed my bum!", Mum said.

"And I was ready to step in and whisk you away. And I seem to remember..." He gave her a lascivious look.

"Not another word!" Mum admonished, but I got a hint they were talking about parental naughtiness later. Ew! "Why Harry?" she asked. "It's not a great job."

"True. But she'll learn phone skills as she makes appointments for customers. Basic accounting by drawing up invoices and chasing payments. Organisational skills and so on. Give it a year and she'll have enough experience to try for a better job."

"And having to deal with Harry and at least a dozen mechanics?"

"Love, have you seen our daughter? She's been dealing with men eying her up since before she was 16." Younger, I mentally corrected. "If anything, that's the least of my worries." However, as he said that, a frown crossed his face as he remembered walking in on me with that older guy.

I attended an interview with 'uncle' Harry, and it was pretty funny. But I tried to take it seriously. I had a modest skirt and blouse, and he explained the job. Basically, I'd open the garage just before 8am, and accept the car keys from the customer, adding a tag to say where it was parked. Then I'd field phone calls and book appointments.

I'd need to type up the bills before the customer came to collect their cars. Take phone and card payments in person and keep track of it all. For a relatively simple job, I'd be exposed to quite a lot of stuff which would pay off as experience for better jobs. The money was actually better than I expected, and I wondered if this was some favour to my dad.

But Mr King, as I had to call Harry, explained that I'd be the only female in the company. And the guys could be a bit like cavemen toward pretty young ladies. I wasn't about to disabuse my 'uncle' that I was less of a lady than he thought.

The garage was big enough to work on 4 cars at once in a large open space. I had a small office next to the giant garage doors, about 7 feet square, with a small window into the workshop. It was soundproof against the noise from the garage, so I could make calls easier.

Harry had a fairly big office. There was a small kitchenette, which would be comfortable for less than half the staff. There was a bathroom with two stalls and two urinals. Finally, there were two storage rooms that were a little scary. Stank of ancient oil and made me feel dirty just walking too close to them.

And when I say dirty, it was the naughty kind of dirty. I'd always had an active imagination regarding fantasies, and while some girls imagine being movie or pop stars. My fantasies were more along the lines of a lingerie model, stripper, or, in extreme cases, a high-end escort.

On the job

On my first morning, Mr King, as I had to remind myself to call him, apologised again about the guys. As the only woman in an all-male environment, their language could be colourful and crude. I smiled and assured him I wasn't some wilting flower that would get the vapours at the first 'fuck' I heard. He didn't look so sure but spent the day training me on the job.

It was a lot to take in, but not overwhelming. The busiest times for me were first thing, then again around lunchtime. Finally, again at the end of the day when I had to rush to type up bills from the mechanics badly filled in forms. Sometimes I had to go out and query the mechanic, and I noticed the friendly banter that was nearly continuous quieted down when I was in the workshop. It made me feel a little isolated sitting in my little cubicle alone all day. But I realised Harry must have warned them to clean up their act when I was around.

The mechanics ranged from Andy, who was only 24 and a bit shy, all the way up to Arthur, who was about 50 and had 3 grandkids. There was definitely a pecking order in who teased who, and the jokes, when I wasn't apparently in earshot, were crude and crass. But it didn't bother me.

When I got my first pay packet at the end of the month, I was ecstatic. Until I got home, and dad demanded nearly half for 'rent'. I'd expected to go on a massive spending spree, and that pissed me off. Not helped when he explained I needed to get used to budgeting for when I had my own place. I went off in a huff, but mum came to find me and confided something. Dad and she had agreed to set aside most of the money for me like a savings account. This way when I was earning enough to get a place of my own, they would give me back the money to pay any deposit and perhaps get some furniture of my own.

I understood and appreciated it, but I'm not a delayed gratification kind of girl. When I want something, I want it right away. Which got me into a few unfortunate situations with my friends' boyfriends and one of their dads. Remember that guy my dad caught me with?

So, my clothes shopping trip was more for work stuff. Uncle Harry asked me to wear a blouse or something smart at work, presenting a professional front for the customers. But as I was behind my desk most of the time, I could wear jeans and trainers if I wanted.

A few weeks later, I had a breakthrough at work towards becoming one of the 'guys.' Arthur had come back from a week's holiday in the Canary Islands, and he was holding court telling the guys what he'd done. I could hear him as it was hot in my tiny office, and I was leaving the door open for the cooler air. The trip was for their 30th anniversary and he'd finally talked his wife into visiting a nudist beach.

Which got cheers and chuckles from the other mechanics standing around Arthur in a loose semi-circle. She'd said that nobody would be interested in seeing an old lady like her, but I'd seen a photo, and I had to disagree. It was her in their garden with two of their grandkids in a paddling pool. She wasn't a small woman, but wore a bikini showing off massive boobs, and I even noticed how prominent her nipples were.

I knew everyone in the garage had seen that photo and I was sure all of them, including young Andy, would wish that they had been there. I stepped out of my office behind Arthur. The others saw me, but Arthur was too tied up in his story about the dozens of naked women of all shapes and sizes, to notice their change in expression.

I held up a finger to my lips not to let on that I was there and there were a few grins. He went on to explain how his wife kept saying he would get more out of it than her on the nudist beach. Despite his reassurance that all the guys wanted to see her naked. He kept pointing out the young men walking down the beach and looking at her. Then returning minutes later for another look, with semis. I had to smile at that.

He went on to say after they got back to the hotel, she let him play tonsil hockey for the first time in nearly a decade. The room was silent, and I was sure Arthur wondered why. But he didn't know I was standing just behind him. I burst out laughing and he spun round and actually blushed.

"You don't think I know what that is? I'm not averse to tonsil hockey myself." I gave them a sexy wink and returned to my office.

I caught the others laughing at Arthur's embarrassment, but after that I felt more one of the 'guys.' Knowing I wouldn't get upset, they would now include me in their banter and teasing. It was milder than they gave each other, but I played along and teased back. Vamping it up from time to time to embarrass the guys in turn.

Because I was the first one in, in the mornings, I finished on Friday afternoons at 4:30, and on the last Friday in August, it was my birthday. My friends planned on us taking the train to a larger town with fresh bars and clubs to go to. So, I brought in a change of clothes so I could rush to the train after work.

I asked Mr King if he minded if I changed before I left, as it was my birthday. He shrugged and wished me a happy birthday. Around about 4 o'clock, I headed to the bathroom and changed into a short black skirt and a black blouse covered in sequins. After adding high heels and redoing my makeup, I headed back to my office.

Only the moment I left the bathroom; I noticed every guy paused in their work to watch me. Even Harry, who was talking to Arthur, looked over and grinned. I gave him a little wave and felt a buzz from being the centre of attention. Obviously, I'd dressed up to get male attention, and this proved it had worked. I even felt a little turned on.

I left my regular work clothes under my desk and rushed to the train. It was amusing being so dressed up when kids were still going home from school. We had a great night, and I snogged a few guys and groped and was groped back by a couple. But I didn't let it go further, as I was crashing at a friend's house. We didn't get to bed until 4 am.

Normally Mr King came in somewhere between 9:30 and 10 am, as he stayed until 6pm each night to let late clients collect their keys. When he came in early on Monday, he explained he needed to spend the morning arguing with suppliers over better discounts. Then added that he preferred what I'd worn on Friday. I told him he was being cheeky, but it was light banter.

Around 10:30, I was surprised to get an email to my work account. I don't think I'd had one just for me before. It was Harry asking if I could get him a tea, as he was stuck on the phone and parched. He admitted it wasn't my job and apologised, but I didn't mind. I was getting bored at some points in the day.

We weren't exactly a cup and saucer place, so I made Harry's milky and sweet tea in his mug. Then put it on a plate and added a couple of chocolate digestives. He gave me a look like I'd presented him with the holy grail as I put it on his desk. 1/2 an hour later, I got another email from Harry. Praising me for the biscuits as he crashed if his blood sugar dropped. Usually, he had mini chocolate bars in his desk, but he'd run out.

When I went to grab a sandwich for lunch, I also got two family sized bags of Milky Ways. Putting one on Harry's desk and the other in my desk for emergencies. Around 3 pm, I wanted a coffee and made another tea for Harry. Better to be busy than sit being bored.

When I put his tea on his desk, he surprised me by jumping up and saying I was a life saver. Then he hugged me and kissed my forehead.

"Crap, sorry." He said, stepping back.

"Why? It's not like you've not hugged me and kissed my forehead before 'uncle' Harry." I said the uncle on purpose this time.

"True, but that was when you were small and didn't have those." His hands came up towards my boobs, and for a moment, I thought he might touch them.

But he only gestured to them. Admittedly from pretty close up.

"I'm not a little girl anymore." I said and felt a little buzz from seeing him staring at my boobs.

"I noticed that, especially on Friday." He seemed to realise he was staring and moved to sit. "Thanks for the tea; and the chocolates."

After I returned to my desk, I pondered on Harry eying me up. Not that I wasn't used to that in general. But that was more blatant than I was used to.

Since I'd started working, I'd started to consume work related porn and erotic stories. I'd no interest in Harry, but the idea of a guy in power over a young hot female was exciting. Sometimes it was secretaries that had made a mistake and had to pay by spanking or sucking their boss's dick.

I had created a few fantasies around that, and being forced to walk around the workshop in slutty clothing. But it was pretty generic and not related to any real people.

On Thursday afternoon, I had my regular meeting with Mr King about how it was going with my job. But after 2 months I had everything down pat. So, I'd sit in his office and drink my coffee to his sweet tea, and we'd chat about the business. He complained the mechanics tended to slack off by the time they got to Friday. Which annoyed Harry as he hated holding on to customer's cars over the weekend. The garage was open with a skeleton staff on Saturday mornings, for emergencies or super simple fixes.

He joked that I might motivate them if I were to dress up like I did on the previous Friday. We laughed, but I added that it wouldn't bother me. He looked surprised, but I admitted I liked showing off, a bit. I hastily added the last 2 words. I didn't want to come off too keen. He tapped his pen on his desk in thought.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "It would be no good if you were dressed 'nice' all day." I smiled at his choice of words. "So; how about this? The guys make a 'brew' at about 3:30, right? If you were to put on something nice and serve them their 'brew' in the workshop?"

I nodded.

"Sorry if that's making you do the teas and coffees again. But this way I can tell them if they pull their finger out, you'll bring them a brew. Otherwise, you stay in your office, and they sort themselves out."

It sounded ok to me, and I agreed. I loved being the centre of attention and it hinted of naughtiness showing off to my work colleagues.

New responsibilities

That night I spent ages going through my clothes, only to pause as I realised Harry would probably want me to do it every Friday. Which made me a little wet, but I also understood that I'd have to pace my outfits. Otherwise, by Christmas, the effect of me wearing something a little revealing would have lost its effect.

A mental image of me serving tea in high heels and just my underwear popped into my head, and I laughed. I wouldn't go that far; would I? That caused a shiver down my back. That was one of my darker fantasies. But I went back to plan a variety of outfits that I could adjust to be a little more revealing or sexier over time.

After vague but sexy dreams, I went to work with my change of clothes in a bag. Only after I sat down did I worry that Harry would say if the guys hadn't done enough to earn their bonus. I chuckled that I would be disappointed. How fucked up was that?

Then Harry arrived. He came straight into my office and gave me a look. I nodded, feeling suddenly awkward, and pointed to my bag. He gave a relieved smile and left me. Looking through the small triple glazed window into the workshop, I saw Harry approaching the mechanics in ones and twos. Presumably telling them to pull their fingers out and finish their work today.

He gestured towards me, and I saw the mechanics glance at me. I could feel my panties getting damp. Then the phone rang, and I jumped. Telling myself to pull myself together. It wasn't like I was going to bang them all! I'd be wearing clothes I went out in regularly and handing out mugs of tea and coffee.

Snatching up the phone, I resumed work. But I noticed as I glanced into the workshop, the guys operating with a hint of haste that I rarely saw on a Friday. At least that made it unlikely that Harry would stop me. I shook my head that I was so messed up that I wanted to flaunt myself around the guys.

The day was busier than usual as mums tried to book their cars in for services before they had to take their little darling to school. The mechanics dropped off their worksheets all morning, and I had to wonder what Harry had told them. What if he'd promised too much?

But he'd not given me any guidance over what to wear. After a moment's thought, I realised why. He'd said I should wear something nice. Leaving the decision to me as to what that meant. Because if he'd said 'wear something slutty' it would be an open and shut sexual harassment case. OK, probably not from me. Last night, I let my imagination go wild over what I might wear. Knowing I'd probably chicken out on the naughtier stuff.

It was mid-afternoon before I managed to have 5 minutes to myself, and I was thirsty, having not had a break all day. When I looked at the clock, it was 3 pm and I smirked. Nearly show time. I looked over at my bag and tried to remind myself not to overthink this.

At quarter past, I grabbed my bag and purse and walked over to the bathroom. Noticing everyone paused in their work to watch me. As the door closed behind me, I had to admit I loved the attention. Stepping into the toilet stall and closing the lid. I stripped down to my panties, then a shiver went through me. Being naked, but for my sexiest panties, in a toilet was nasty.

However, something nasty turned me on right now. I slipped on my purple push-up bra, even though I didn't need the enhancement, and wondered how it looked. Without thinking it through, I opened the cubicle door and admired myself in the mirror. The door to the workshop moved, and I froze. My heart sped up until I realised it was just someone driving a big vehicle into the garage. The air pressure changes regularly popped my office door open.

Giggling nervously, I finished dressing without closing the cubicle door. The same short skirt as last week, but a scoop neck burgundy top. I adjusted it so the edge of my purple bra was just visible. Then blew a kiss at myself in the mirror. Added the high heels; to give my legs and bum a boost, I topped up my mascara and put a deeper lipstick on. Not wanting to overdo it, as I wanted room to escalate in the future.

Tucking my regular clothes into the bag, I exited the bathroom and felt all the guys' eyes on me. Projecting a casualness I wasn't feeling, but tried to pull off. Usually, when I wear something like this, I have girlfriends around for moral support. When I stepped into the kitchen, I saw all the mugs lined up and the kettle freshly boiled.

Luckily, someone had written out the tea and coffee requirements on post-it notes. As I only knew Harry's preference. Without a tray, I couldn't carry more than four mugs on a plate. So, I carried out the 'brews' to the guys and looked around for whose mugs I had. Arthur and Andy held up a finger each, so I sauntered over with a big smile on my face.

Andy had a grin on his face as he took his mug, but Arthur let his eyes roam over my body. Lingering on my tits. Which was the point of this top. It was the type of thing that caught guys' attention, hoping I'd lean forward, and they could peek inside. That move had paid for this top many times over with free drinks.

As I returned to the kitchen, I noticed a grinning Harry at his office door. He gave me a sly thumbs up. Two more trips to the kitchen saw the mechanics served their brews. Most gave me compliments on what I was wearing. All were about the colour or the fabric, rather than how short my skirt was or how low cut the top was. But I knew.

That left me with Harry's mug. After adding the chocolate digestives, I sauntered into his office as he sat smiling behind his desk. Placing the plate on the table, his eyes widened, and his smile became a grin. It was only then that I realised I'd leant forward to put his tea down. I'd not meant to, but I'd flashed my boss a glimpse of my bra.

I got a warm feeling, which was a little confusing. Harry was my dad's age and while not bad looking, I had no interest. It seemed the act of showing off was more important than for whom. He thanked me profusely, and I shrugged and tried to make out it was no big deal. Adding I was ok if he wanted to make it a regular thing.

It was hard to sound casual, and I was about to leave when he called me back.

He pulled his wallet and held out 20 quid.

"If we're going to do this regularly, I think I should contribute to your choice of wardrobe. Although what you wear is entirely up to you."

I smiled, took the money, and, for some reason, tucked the note into my bra. It was only after I did it did, I realise it made me look like a stripper, and I hurried back to my office to sort out my thoughts. I fantasised about stripping, but usually for an anonymous audience or a handsome young guy close to my age.

I watched the mechanic standing around chatting and I saw gestures that could only be about my boobs or bum, and grinned. God, guys were so easy sometimes. Make that most of the time.

I met friends in the pub after work and they asked why I was dressed up. I blurted out what happened, and half the girls were appalled that my boss had asked me. It was weird defending him, and the other girls thought it was funny that I had more than a dozen guys wrapped around my little finger so easily. Although, after quite a few drinks, one of the girls admitted she thought it was hot.

When I got home, dad asked if I'd gone to work in what I was wearing and I said I'd changed at a friend's house.

In the morning, I went into the garage to retrieve my regular clothes, so I found it was only Arthur and Andy in the garage. Despite Andy being the foil to most of Arthur's teasing, the older man had taken Andy under his wing to teach him all he knew. They greeted me and thanked me again for the brew. I said it might be a regular thing, if Uncle Harry thought they were pulling their weight.

Both chuckled at me calling the boss 'uncle' but promised to pass the word to the others for their Friday treat.

Every Friday, we repeated the performance in some shape or form. I never showed off too much but alternated between focusing on my long legs or my boobs. Over the next few months, the guys became more relaxed about ogling me, and I hate to say it. But I left work horny every Friday.

It was amusing to overhear the guys pondering amongst themselves over what I'd wear next. Sometimes I tried to cater to their whims. Like when Halloween came around, I bought a sexy witch costume. The split down the cleavage reminded me of the Elvira dress as my navel was on display. And the skirt barely covered my arse. It looked sexy, but peeling off the double-sided tape that held the dress in place over my boobs wasn't fun. Leaving a red mark on my skin.

OK, if I'm honest, I nearly climaxed peeling off the 2nd tape, as the pleasure/pain thing kicked in. I had to tell mum I'd eaten too many sweets at work, to avoid sharing dinner. In truth, I was playing with myself, imagining lewd things in the workshop.

Christmas treats

As it came up to Christmas, I was looking forward to two weeks off. Harry would carry the emergency mobile phone and field calls to see if any work was worth paying the overtime. I'd planned in advance and bought a sexy Santa dress. Harry's £20 a week had added up, and I'd used most of it to expand my sexy underwear collection. Not that I'd told him, just in case he wanted to see them. That thought alone got me hot and bothered.

My outfit on the last Friday before Christmas was fishnet stockings and patent leather stilettos. Garter belt and extremely high cut and thin panties. The matching black bra was very sheer, and I was looking forward to wearing this for my next boyfriend.

I'd not had one since I'd started working, as the previous two were a bit too clingy. The sex was great, but I'd no interest in getting too serious. Besides, I knew a few former lovers who I could call, and they would hurry around for another fuck. To be honest, I was sure I'd call at least one over my time off. Mum and dad did a tour of our relatives over Christmas and New Year. Leaving me alone at home.

The dress was pretty much as you'd expect. Short and low-cut in the required red velvet. The neckline, cuffs and hem were lined with white fake fur and topped with a matching elf hat. Instead of waiting until 3:30, I changed into the outfit at noon, and Harry opened up the booze.

Customers would turn up with beer, wine, and some bottles of spirits. Chocolates, mince pies and other tips for the guys. I was glad that there were no cars to work on and Harry had promised taxis for anyone after work. We closed the giant garage doors and sat around drinking and swapping stories about our best and worst Christmas presents.

Despite Harry working his way up from a grease monkey mechanic, he wore a suit to the overalls the mechanics wore. And usually tried to project a distance between him and his employees. The guys all sat around on cheap folding camping chairs, each stained with oil and dirt. I was offered one, but didn't want my dress getting messed up.

I noticed Andy and Arthur passed a look, and the pair stacked up 4 new SUV tires, placed a bit of wood on it. Then covered it with a blanket. Arthur lifted me up and placed me on top. My feet were six inches off the ground. Looking around, I couldn't help noticing that they were all a lot lower than me, and I wondered if they could see up my skirt.

Harry was foregoing the boss role and instead was serving booze and snacks to his employees, including me. I offered to help, but worried if I tried to get off the pile of tyres, I'd flash my insubstantial panties to the room. Harry seemed more content to ogle my legs, and I had to fight the urge to open my legs to show them more. I was fairly drunk, that and the outfit might have been a bad combination for me.

After a few hours of stories that almost had me wetting myself, Harry suggested we wrap up for the day. There were boos and complaints, but we all knew it was best if we went home while we still could. Someone suggested some photos to remember the day, and I jumped up excited. Entirely forgetting I'd flash my panties getting down.

Naturally, I was the centre point of the photos. Either as a group for all of us, or in smaller groups. More than once, I felt a hand on my bum, but I didn't know who it was. I should have said something, but I was feeling horny and wicked. Which was a bad idea. When I didn't complain, it happened more and more often.

Mistletoe was produced, and I kissed everyone more than once. I've no idea how many photos were taken, and I was glad that Harry shared a taxi with me to get me home. It was still daylight as he helped me into the house, but I tried to kiss him again. Something neither a Christmas kiss, nor one for my boss. At the time, I was disappointed he stopped me, but in the morning, with a hangover, I was glad he had.

I was sure some of the photos were a bit risky, and snogging my boss would make it worse.

Coming back into work in January, the weather was bitterly cold. Some snow, but lots of ice on the roads, and many, many minor crunches on cars. The idea of a business blouse was abandoned, as I wore long Johns and two thick jumpers. It was so cold that the mechanics closed the giant door and opened it only for as short a period as possible to swap cars.

Harry announced that my dressing up was suspended until the weather improved. That earned boos and grumbles, but nothing too severe. Especially as I suggested that if I couldn't dress 'nice' for them, I might give them a kiss on the cheek. I thought this would be enough to buy them off, but it seemed to fall flat. Glancing at Harry, I upped the ante, suggesting they could pat my bum once as I handed out their brew.

Pointing out that all of them had done it when I was drunk before Christmas, and clarifying a quick, gentle pat only. Harry looked surprised, but didn't object.

During the week, I noticed someone had been printing off photos of me from Christmas and some were a bit embarrassing. The group shots weren't bad, but the shots with me and one guy at a time showed them mauling my bum as I kissed them. A few even showed my panties. One seemed to show a hand on my boob, but it might have just been the angle that looked like it. I didn't remember.

Not that I felt violated by the photos. In truth, it excited me. But I wished I could remember it better.

On Friday, I slipped into the bathroom to remove my long Johns as I didn't want the guys to know I wore such unsexy things. Without the booze, the kisses were on the cheek, and the pat on my bottom was mild. At least that first time. As the cold spell lasted weeks, the guys gradually got bolder over time.

The pats on my bum would linger or give a gentle squeeze. Making me regret not arranging a hook up to relieve my frustrations over Christmas. By mid-February, it was definitely a grope of some sort from each guy. I saw Harry watching, and I was ashamed that I was pushing my bum back into each mechanic's hand.

Not that Harry didn't get his turn. I entered his office, worried he might admonish me for going too far. I stood next to him as I put the plate down and he pushed his chair away from me. I gave him an offended look. But he explained his 'boss' status made him reluctant. I pointed out I'd seen the photos from Christmas, and he wasn't reluctant then.

He reached out and gave my bum a squeeze. And I felt better because I'd been worried that he thought less of me letting the guys touch my bum. When he said, as the boss, he should get more, and gave my other buttock a squeeze, I chuckled. Happy that I'd not fucked up.

I was glad I had to take some time off before the end of March to use up my holidays. Taking the opportunity to fuck an ex a lot. He was surprised how aggressive I was, but didn't ask why. But why would he? I'd suck him hard and fuck him. Then rinse and repeat. To be honest, I had a tender pussy by the time I got back to work.

And instead of satisfying my libido, it seemed to amp it up. Not helped by the comments from the guys that they missed me and my Friday treats. Which unfortunately seemed to press my buttons. And one button seemed to be my over sensitive clit. On Friday, it appeared to the guys that I'd backpedalled on the outfit I wore, compared to the sexy Christmas outfit.

I was a little disappointed, but they didn't know my plan. Most of the guys continued working as I came out with their brews. Taking their mugs, I bent over the engine of the vehicle they were working on. Or squatted down to pass a mug to a guy on a trolley under a car. Both moves showed off my bra or panties and the guys knew it was deliberate. But no one said anything for fear of spoiling the 'game.'

Over the next six weeks or so, it took an effort not to get carried away. The temptation to go without underwear was high, but I managed to restrict it to simply wearing sexy lingerie. Something I was building up quite a collection. Although I was regretting not having a regular outlet to show off and release my frustrations.

My avoidance of a regular boyfriend relationship had been to avoid being tied up and was coming back to bite me in the arse. In fact, I was having fantasies of both being tied up and taken up the bum. Neither of which I'd done. So, it was weird to fantasise about that suddenly. Neither of which I'd spent any time watching or reading about.

After Easter, my dad was talking about my moving on to a new job. In a few months, I'd have a full year's experience in a variety of fields. It opened a lot of doors, but the idea of moving on made me sad. For my career it made sense, and Harry knew I was only going to work there short term. But the others did not.

I'd gained more confidence there and wondered if I should tell the others I was leaving in a few months. But that made me feel down.

New temptations

Then one day I was bored and staring into the workshop. I saw one of the mechanics looking a little shifty. Picked something from one of the many pigeon holes stuffed with technical manuals. But to me it looked like a magazine instead of a manual. I was curious and noticed a couple of guys sharing a knowing look. Which tweaked my curiosity.

Thinking back, I remembered seeing one guy or another grab it from time to time. Until now, I'd assumed it was just something to read while having a number 2. But wouldn't they have wanted to replace it from time to time? It looked rather tattered.

The next morning, after opening the garage, I hurried over before the guys arrived to check out the magazine. I wasn't sure if I should be shocked or amused about how men think. It was a porn magazine, and pretty hardcore. But I was used to that. I'd spent enough time watching or reading stuff that was more excessive than a few photos.

I had no doubt the guys used it to jerk off, but it just seemed weird to do it at work. But I'd had boyfriends who seemed to be unable to go anytime without an orgasm. With no other world experience, I'd no idea this sort of thing was common. If all the guys did it or just the sad, lonely ones.

Guys jerking off in the bathroom was nasty. But I've already admitted nasty things could be a turn on for me. An idea formed, and as it did, I knew it was a bad idea. An unbelievably bad idea. However, bad ideas are often the way I went. I returned the magazine and went to my office.

Sitting down, I couldn't see much into the workshop through the windows unless someone stood close to it. But I had a small magnifying vanity mirror on a handle. Using some tape, I attached it on top of my monitor and angled it towards that porn shelf. It took a few adjustments with me looking from my usual working position.

From time to time, I'd look in the mirror to see if it was gone. But as the day progressed, nobody seemed to go for it. When I hung up a phone call, I glanced in the mirror to see the magazine was missing. Jumping up, I checked the workshop to work out who was using it. When I realised it was Andy, it seemed like my bad idea had just been handed to me on a platter.

He was about 24, but kinda shy and not good around women. Or at least as far as I could tell. Ever since my first exposure to male genitals, I'd become somewhat obsessed. The variety of shapes and sizes, along with how they morphed from soft and squidgy to a throbbing rod of pleasure. But there was something I'd never done, and that was to watch a guy wank. At least more than a stroke or two.

But I suppose I was partially to blame for that. I was as eager to do more as they to see more. Here was an opportunity. If I could sneak into the bathroom with no one else noticing I could watch. By catching him dick in hand, he'd pretty much have to do what I said. Some logical part of my brain waved its hand for attention, but I ignored it.

I'd finally get a chance to watch a guy to completion and because there was nothing between us, I didn't have to get involved. A twinge of doubt hit me at that, but I pressed on with a plan that I knew was shaky. However, I wasn't listening to more than my desire to see this. My logical brain passed me a metaphorical note to read later.

I headed into the workshop. Checking work orders and feeling like I had a sign above my head over what I was planning. As I neared the door with no one noticing I tried to listen to my doubts. Why would I assume he'd not lock himself into a cubicle and do it there? Why would I assume that he'd not just stop when I walked in? The threat of telling the others to embarrass him was false, if they all did it from time to time.

It was a risk, but I slipped into the bathroom to catch Andy. Overalls down around his ankles, with the porn mag in one hand, and; well I'm sure you can figure out what he had in his other hand. He froze and looked horrified. And instantly, I regretted spying on him.

He was stroking a good looking and hard dick, which called to me out of all proportion. And that was a problem. My feelings towards Andy were confusing. Despite me being years younger than him, as a hot girl, I felt superior to his awkward older male limitations.

I was intruding on his moment of privacy. How would I have felt if someone had walked in on me in similar circumstances? OK, that's an unfortunate example, as I'd had more than a few fantasies of just that. The point was I was in the wrong.

Gazing at the magazine in his hand, I saw a topless model sucking dick. She looked remarkably like me. I swear that was what pushed me over the edge. Instead of apologising and pretending it was an accident, then getting the fuck out of there. I went the other way. Despite knowing it was a very bad idea.

If you'd have asked my friends what I'd do in a situation like this, they'd probably suggest exactly what I did. Despite claiming I just wanted to watch, I had years of pre-programming around my reactions around erections. The reason I'd never got a chance to watch a guy finish is I got involved.

When the idea that if I helped, he'd not tell anyone else, I jumped on it and moved closer and placed my hand over his. Feeling the heat of his weapon. That was a word I'd never used before. It wasn't massive, but he fit my mental definition of a weapon for some reason.

Holding my fingers around his own around his shaft was bad, but I wanted more. It felt incomplete not to touch him directly.

"Let me help." I whispered.

"Really?" He whispered back.

I nodded and sank to my knees, replacing his hand with mine so I could give him a proper hand job. Pushing aside my pondering about how many times he'd had some girl do this for him. I wanted to ensure he'd remember me doing it. But I knew we couldn't take too long. Otherwise someone might walk in on us.

With my free hand I took the magazine and turned to a photo of the model on her back with a vibrator in her pussy. And rested it on the edge of the sink for him to look at. As my hand fondled his balls his eyes closed. Revelling in my touch. In only a few minutes he suddenly tensed and warmed me he was going to cum.

Shifting to one side to avoid him cumming on me, he shot off over the floor. The scent filled my nostrils, and I was about to lean in and suck him clean, when the door opened. Andy and I froze as Tony stood in the door. It would be impossible to pretend we'd not done what we'd done. Even if I'd not actually sucked Andy. After all, I still had his dick in my hand.

He just grinned and Andy stuffed his dick back in his pants and hurried off. Leaving me kneeling in the bathroom next to a splatter of cum on the floor. Tony was cockier than Andy and unzipped himself and pulled out his dick. Presenting it to me. Part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off, but it probably says more about me than I'd like, that I reached out for it.

I suppose it's just conditioning that if I saw a hard dick, I'd want to touch it. And it seemed less likely he'd tell the others if I wanked him off. Hell, I'd just done Andy, and I'd not originally planned on doing that either. It wasn't that I hadn't wanked off guys I'd had little interest in. And it was a nice dick, although I wasn't going to tell Tony that.

And even though I love a dick in my hand as one of my top three favourite things, I didn't want it to take too long. My knees were sore and if another guy came in, I'd be pissed, So I jacked Tony fast. But I'd neglected to take into consideration he was in his early thirties and married.

"Show me your tits." He demanded.

"Fuck off."

"Bra?" He asked far more reasonably.

After only a moment I thought it was a good idea. So, I used my free hand to hike my blouse up to show off a rather utilitarian white bra. Admittedly over a pair of spectacular tits. He reached for them, and I slapped his hands away. But I knew he was close.

He started thrusting his hips and his dick shot spunk over my hand and the floor. As I checked he'd not got any on my clothes, he bent down, kissed me on the cheek and thanked me. Then zipped up and rushed off. Leaving me with cum over my hand, more over the floor and a porn mag with a model who looked like me ramming a jumbo vibrator inside her.

Suddenly I burst out laughing. If I wrote this down, no one would believe me. I wiped up the cum, flushed it down the toilet and washed my hands, then slipped from the bathroom. Almost forgetting to refasten my blouse. Suddenly aware of the rest of the garage. Had they seen me go in? Or Andy and Tony come out, followed by me?

By the time I got back to my desk the reality of what I'd done kicked in and I felt a little sick. It wasn't what I'd done exactly, I'd wanked relative strangers off before. But here? It wasn't a nightclub bathroom or alley. This was work. If I got carried away in a club, all I had to do was avoid going to the club again. I couldn't do that at work. I had to turn up here every day.

And I doubted if Tony could keep his mouth shut.

A brief moment of sanity

After tea, I went to my room telling my parents I wasn't feeling well. Which was true to some extent. I was worried about my job. I mean, technically it was sexual harassment at work. I'd spied on a guy in the bathroom. If the situation were reversed, I'd be pissed off about it. Then on top of that I'd wanked two guys off, ok, they'd certainly not complained, but even so.

Would Tony try to blackmail me? Would I fuck him to stop him telling the others? No, I'd jerk them all off before that. I laughed nervously. It wasn't so much the hand job, but revealing my secret first, if it defanged Tony. The image of the guys setting up a camp chair in one corner of the workshop, perhaps behind a screen. So, I could sit and wank them all off one after another formed in my head.

Oddly, that excited me more than it should. Hell, it shouldn't excite me at all, but...

OK, I'll admit to myself that I've got a dark and slutty side. Some of my fantasies are dark and kinda scary. And I love a dick in my hand. If I can't manage it somewhere better. To some extent I feel conditioned, like Pavlov's dogs. A hard dick in my sight is like ringing some dinner bell somewhere, and my mouth starts to water. As well as other parts of my body.

I had a poor night sleep with strange dreams that left me horny, without remembering any details. At work I watched Tony and Andy like a hawk whenever I got the chance, but they seemed like nothing had happened. Perhaps I'd gotten away with it.

Nope!

Around 11 am, I was using the bathroom, when I walked out of the cubicle to see Ron standing there. Jizz mag in one hand and leaning against the sink with his dick hanging out.

"Tony said you'd..." He nodded towards his erection.

'Fucking bastard.' I thought.

"I got you that, to kneel on." He gestured to a kneeling pad they used in the workshop.

Weirdly, it was kinda sweet. He'd at least thought of me kindly. Even if his thoughts included me jerking him off. Roy was a nice guy, recently divorced, and I thought what the hell.

Back when I was just a girl and had just started experimenting with jerking my boyfriends off. I'd jokingly bragged to a girlfriend that I wanted to jerk off a thousand guys before I was 30. Which sounded like forever. Perhaps some part of me still wanted to reach that total? Or I was making more excuses to justify my actions.

I kicked the pad into place in front of him and knelt. Taking his dick in my hand and revelling in the heady feeling of the mixture of hardness and softness at the same time. Blocking out the surroundings I centred myself to focus and jerk him off, and not lose my willpower. By the time I'd turned 18 I'd graduated from simple hand jobs to blow jobs. And I had to force myself to remember that the former was all I was going to do.

Just before he climaxed, I managed to grab some paper towels to avoid it getting on me or the floor. Wiping cum off the floor was kinda demeaning. As I washed my hands, he tucked himself away. I reminded him to take the cushion, but he grinned and said to leave it.

His next words sent chills to my stomach, and a spark of excitement to my pussy.

"Leave it. You'll probably need it for your next time at 2 pm."

"Someone's cocky. Think you'll have recovered enough by then?"

"Not me, the next guy on the rota."

He left me speechless. There was a rota? Fuck!

I returned to my desk and sat chewing my nails. An old habit I'd thought I'd given up for good. What should I do? I'd jerked off about 1/4 of the guys, if you excluded Harry. Was I going to have to do it for all of them? An annoying part of my brain thrust up a metaphysical hand and yelled 'yes please.' That wasn't helpful.

He said a rota. Was this a one-time thing or would all my free time going to be spent with a dick in my hand? My pussy growled in approval, provided I fed her enough. I was arguing with myself, coming up with thin to threadbare ideas that supported doing it; while knowing they were all crap.

At 2pm, I was on the phone and when I hung up, I wondered if I was going to jerk off the next guy off or not. I could probably stop it now. But I was feeling a little like a junky searching for their next fix. It was idiotic, and I knew it. I was a hot young thing and could almost snap my fingers and get a guy to worship me.

But something about this poked at a darker side to me. I liked the idea of someone else taking charge and using me. And this ticked a few boxes in that regard, without going too far. I got up and was halfway to the bathroom before I realised, I was doing it.

Avoiding looking at the mechanics, as I was sure they were watching, I entered the bathroom to see Carl sitting on the countertop next to the sink.

"I wasn't sure you were coming."

"Stuck on the phone." I explained.

Saying it so casually, given what I was about to do, did something to me. It felt like I was slipping into a new persona. Like I was acting out one of my fantasies about being an escort. Although they had never happened in a bathroom before. Grasping that persona as a lifeline, I moved closer.

"But this isn't about me cumming is it?" I said and unzipped him.

Unlike the others he was soft and I kinda like that. I love watching it grow from the shrivelled worm to a hard rod and know it was all because of me. Carl glanced at the magazine, but I opened my blouse and let him look at my bra clad tits. That focused his attention all onto me again. So, I made a show of really being into jerking him off.

Whispering how big he was, while he was only average, but guys like to feel special. And bringing it close to my tits as if I was going to titty wank him. Finishing with it close to my face. Like I was going to suck him or let him cum over my face.

It worked, and I barely managed to catch his cum in the paper towels before he rushed off. Barely tucking himself away before leaving the room. Which left me frustrated and horny. It was all very well jerking the guys off, but it was rather one sided. But as I washed my hands and disposed of the cum soaked towel, I realized I needed to keep that thought in check.

If I opened up a Pandora's box of expecting something in return, it was a path that led to potential disaster. The image of me being gang banged by the mechanics while someone filmed it popped into my head. And I liked it. That was why I had to keep control. Although, I might buy myself a pocket rocket to get myself off in my office. Just to ensure I didn't test my willpower too much.

Consequences or acceptance?

The next morning Harry called me into his office minutes after he'd arrived. He looked pissed, and I guessed he knew.

"What were you thinking?" He asked me.

I didn't answer as I had no answer. Saying I was horny and curious was feeble.

"I should really fire you for this." I heart raced, and I stepped around his desk. Ready to drop to my knees and beg if I had to.

"But if I did, it would get out, that my guys all take a wank break from time to time. And I turn a blind eye to it. If it gets out? My business reputation..."

"It's not that big a deal." I said. "Look, I'll show you."

I reached to unzip him, and he froze in place.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rather redundantly.

As I pushed my hand inside, I was hit by the realisation that this was a monumentally stupid idea. This was almost the definition of sexual harassment. Two of the others already had their dicks out. Then my fingers were inside his underwear, and I knew I'd be ok.

He was already mostly hard. There was no way he was this hard in the 3 seconds it had taken for me to touch him. He had to have already been thinking about my wanking him off. When I pulled it out into the light I grinned.

I've found in certain situations my brain is particularly good at being selective about what it thinks about. The fact Harry was as old as my dad, married with kids and grandkids hardly featured in my thoughts. The fact he was my boss, and I'd been caught doing something wrong, resonated with my fantasies.

Before I could stop myself, my mouth closed over the head, and I started to suck him that last bit to get fully hard.

"Fuck! I thought it was just hand jobs?" He said.

I pulled back and blushed. Which was stupid. Then said,

"You're the boss, you get the chocolate digestives when the others just get the plain ones."

It was a weak excuse, but I wanted to suck him.

As I did, I unbuttoned my blouse, then unhooked my bra. If he was the boss, he would get the better rewards. I pulled back and showed him my tits.

"I overheard them saying you were in your bra?"

"Not for you. You get to see them. Touch them as well, if you want."

I couldn't believe I'd just said that to my boss. It was like I was half in the real world and half in my fantasy porn world where doing this made sense. And in that world, I needed him to cum. So, I resumed sucking him.

Part of me worried that I seemed to have developed this need to get any hard dick I saw, to cum. I mean, it was natural in some circumstances. Like a boyfriend in my bedroom. But if I saw some rando on the street with his dick out, would I still want to get him off? It was weird, and I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts. I realised that Harry wouldn't have had some hot 19-year-old sucking his dick in at least 25 years.

He was fondling my tits and suddenly he was shooting his cum into my mouth. Rewinding my short-term memory, he had warned me twice, but I was too focused, and I ignored him.

"So, you're really up for this? I mean the rota and..." He mimed a jerking motion.

"Look Harry, I think even you can tell that I enjoyed that nearly as much as you. I know it's wrong and dangerous. But that's the appeal. Doing something outrageous now, so when I'm old and surrounded by my grandkids, I'll have some special memories of when I was young and reckless.

"We both know I'll be leaving here once I've got a year's experience under my belt."

"Doesn't it bother you? I mean doing it in the bathroom."

I paused to think. It did a bit. The smell of disinfectant couldn't cover all the other smells, and the kneeling pad was only so good.

"A bit, but how about this? You go to lunch at 1 pm, I could use your office to..." I mimed wanking. "Then be done before you get back."

I refastened my bra and blouse as he thought about it. His dick was still hanging out, and I wondered how much that swayed his thinking.

"You realise that they will all want a turn." I nodded. "And not just once each?" I nodded again, but my pussy gushed a little.

"I'll speak to them. Try to get it through their thick head it's in their own best interest to keep a lid on this." He said.

"How about this, they sort out a rota where I help three guys on Mondays and Tuesday, then two on the rest of the week? That way we have time to fit you in whenever, for your chocolate upgraded version?"

I went back to my desk with part of my brain shaking its metaphorical head over what I was committing to. Twelve hand jobs and a blow job a week for at least 8 more weeks. It was a terrible idea. But terrible ideas were usually the ones I loved the most. The one extra drink when you've had way too much. Or the 3rd slice of chocolate gateau when you already feel a little sick.

I saw Harry get all the guys into his office for a meeting and I knew they were talking about me. It was shaming just how wet I was thinking about it. Afterwards Harry came to me and said starting next week, we'd be doing my plan. But if at any point I changed my mind, all I had to do was tell him and it would stop. No questions asked or any comeback.

It was nice that he said that. But it said more about me than I'd like that I was disappointed the new routine didn't start until the next week.

New Paradigm

Two weeks passed with this new and strange routine. Outwardly everyone pretended what was happening was not. The same teasing and banter were called out across the workshop, but that all changed in Harry's office. At 1 pm, I'd grab my packed lunch and knock on Harry's door.

Inside, I set my lunch aside and slip off my blouse. Giving Harry a few minutes to grope my tits. I could claim it was to get me in the mood. But as with Pavlov's dogs, I was salivating at the idea. Only in my case it wasn't saliva, and they occurred lower down. He'd leave moments later when one of my 'boys' as I referred to them would enter. To find me sitting on the couch with a stack of paper towels on my lap.

I never knew who it would be next, but that didn't matter. Big or small, young, or old, I took each in hand and performed my best hand job for each in turn. It was weirdly endearing when Arthur or one of the others thanked me sincerely afterwards. Like it was a hardship for me.

They were all grateful and courteous, even Tony. The only minor gripe I had was the number of times one or other of them shot off over my chest or stomach. That didn't bother me, but I was having to wash my bras far more often than usual. And I didn't want my mum to ask why.

Once my special duties were done for the day, I'd clean up, eat my lunch. Spray some air freshener and return to my desk for more mundane duties. At least that's the impression I tried to give. In truth, around 2 pm every day I'd slip my jeans and panties down and use my pocket rocket for at least 20 minutes to get myself off.

It was starting to get to the point I was horny from the moment I got to work until I got home. How I got my regular work done, I'd no idea.

But after a few weeks of this regime. I realised I needed to up my game in my Friday motivational performances. I completely ignored that I was already handing out hand jobs daily, which should be enough motivation.

For the last few weeks, I'd been showing off my bra and panties a little for the guys. Leaning over with a gaping blouse, or leaving too many buttons undone so they could peek as I handed out their 'brews'. Or squatting down to offer the mug to a mechanic under a vehicle. Leaving my legs slightly parted to show off my panties.

The natural escalation seemed to be to remove my bra. After all, I'd let 'Uncle' Harry remove my blouse and bra a few times now, before I sucked him off. I knew all the mechanics wanted to see my tits, so it would be easy to arrange to 'accidentally' show them. Manufacture a 'nip' slip kinda thing.

The problem was subconsciously counting down how many Fridays I had before I left. I wanted things to escalate as I'd done from the start. Logically, if that term even applied to me anymore, that would mean the following week I'd go with no panties. That created a new dilemma. And the mechanics under a vehicle this week wouldn't see the escalation as he could only look up my skirt at my panties. And next week when there were no panties, the other guys would just see my tits again.

I sniggered at the idiotic dilemma of making it equitable to expose myself to my work colleagues. The solution was obvious and inevitable. Go without both. Which was where I wanted it to go, anyway. Besides, I was a little ashamed of the state of my panties as it neared the Friday motivation time.

Two hand jobs, a blow job and boob fondling with Uncle Harry, add in 1/2 an hour behind my desk with my toy. Left me and my underwear a mess. I'd gone commando many times, but the idea of that and showing off left a nervous tingle in my stomach. And another type of tingle a little lower. That was the one that worried me. It wouldn't take much to push me that last little bit to lose all control.

In the bathroom I stripped naked and slipped on my skirt. It was short but tight and I experimentally squatted down. I realised that it was extremely unlikely anyone could see up my skirt and felt a mixture of relief and a hint of disappointment. However, I could detect the smell of my pussy.

When I stepped from the kitchen with the mugs on my makeshift tray. I saw a few frowns as I'd worn this blouse before. However, as I handed out the mugs, I moved the tray from hand to hand. Causing the blouse to open enough to flash each guy a boob. It might have been the comments from the other guys. But both guys under a vehicle quickly slid out for their turn to see my tits.

It was only after I'd handed out the last mug that I felt disappointed that nobody had seen up my skirt. By the time I'd changed back into my regular clothes, without the bra and panties, and returned to my desk. I had a rare moment of clarity. I was the mastermind of my own stripping. How far was I prepared to go? That thought both scared and excited me.

Luckily, I'd dropped hints that I was planning on leaving in the not-too-distant future whilst mentally trying to work out what to do for the next Friday.

On Friday morning, I woke up late, recovering from a hangover, and rushed into work. Harry gave me a disapproving look as I was more than an hour late, but nothing more. Although I saw two of the mechanics, give me a look of relief. Letting me know who the recipients of my ministrations were today.

It was only after Harry returned to his office at 2 pm, did I realise in my rush to get to work. I'd entirely forgotten to bring in my sexy outfit. After performing my Friday afternoon routine for months, I was sure the guys would be annoyed if they missed out. So, I rushed into Harry's office and explained the problem.

He grumbled, enjoying it as much as the others, and complained if they missed out on my motivational show, the men would start to slack off again. My mind was racing for an alternative and my eye fell on a photo on the wall from the Christmas party. It was me in the short red velvet dress and I remembered how almost all the guys groped my bum at one point or another.

I told Harry I had a plan. Instead of the hands-off approach as I flashed the men handing out their mugs of teas and coffees. How about they come into the kitchen in groups of four to collect their own 'brew'? In return, I'd bend over the sink and let each guy fondle my bum for 1 minute each.

Harry reminded me about the new year cold snap, and how I'd allowed a pat on the bum from each guy as they got their drink. I thought about it for far too short a time and suggested that I could take my jeans off. Harry grinned and admitted he thought they'd go for it.

I'll admit I had butterflies in my stomach as I went around the workshop telling the men the problem and my solution. I wasn't 100% sure they would go for it, as the previous week I'd gone without underwear. Although it turned out the skirt was too tight for them to know I had no panties. But I was neglecting the fact I was a curvy 19-year-old, and they had already proven they wanted to grope my bum.

3:30 arrived all too quickly, and I hurriedly changed into an 'emergency' pair of panties I'd brought into work. They were rather plain white cotton, but I doubted the guys would care. Then headed to the kitchenette and slipped off my jeans. Seeing someone had lined up their mugs in groups of four. I made the first drinks as the first four entered the room looking awkward and excited.

I asked who was first and Arthur held up his hand. Setting a one-minute timer on my phone, I rested my elbows on the edge of the sink and started the timer. Arthur only hesitated a moment before cupping my bum with both hands. He told me how great my bum was and how lucky he was to work with me.

After the minute was up, he leant over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, then left with his tea. The next six guys were pretty much the same. But Tony was the 8th guy, and I knew he'd push the boundaries. The problem was I was already horny, and his attempts to stretch the definition of my bum, to include between my legs, was stretching my resolve to the limits.

Naturally, he continued after his timer ran out, and I was saved from more as the final group arrived.

It was extremely hard not to grind back against the next guy. The mental effects of letting so many men grope me one after another, were greater than the physical. It was only when I saw Andy was last, that I realised they had come to me in descending order of their ages.

With nobody else to interrupt us, I let myself grind against him as he explored my bum. If not that there wasn't a door on the kitchen, I might have yanked my jeans and thong down and begged for more. Instead, he whispered into my ear to ask if he could touch more than just my bum. He didn't reply but pulled a hand up under my blouse and onto my braless tit.

His time ran out, and he thanked me and quickly left. Leaving me off kilter. Nearly calling out for him to come back and finish what he'd started. Instead, I made Harry's tea and the two chocolate digestives and headed into his office. Walking through the workshop in my panties felt wicked. Despite what else we'd just done.

"How did it go?" He asked as I walked to his desk to put down the plate.

I shrugged. "Fine. Tony was a bit pushy. But nothing I couldn't manage."

"Speaking of handle?" he said and pushed his chair back, allowing a space between him and his desk.

I smiled, and took my place, resting my elbows on his desk as he moved closer behind me to grope my bum.

"Didn't you say that as I was the boss, I got more than the others?"

"Chocolate digestives vs plain digestives you mean?" I asked, amused.

"Kinda,"

His hands shot around in front of me and undid the last button on my blouse. I tossed it aside and gasped as he gripped my panties and yanked them down. I stepped out of them without thinking as his hands explored my bum.

"Beautiful." He said and blew over my exposed lips.

"Please!" I whispered, and he reached up and pressed my shoulders down towards his desk.

Without prompting, I moved my feet apart to let him see everything and give him access to finger or lick me. Hopefully, both, and I didn't have to wait long.

A finger explored my opening, and finding me not just wet, but soaking, it pressed inside me. Harry might be the boss now, but he's spent years in manual work and his finger was as thick as some dicks I'd fucked. Then his moustache tickled my pussy as his tongue licked me.

"Turn over." He said, and I stood then lay back on his desk. Staring up at the ceiling ignoring the momentary query over how I'd come to this.

My legs springing open and hoping he'd get me off in any way he wanted. Including with his dick if that's what it took. But I hoped he'd finger me and lick me first. Harry was on the same page as he proved quickly how he'd had such a long and happy marriage. If he did this with his wife, I could imagine her overlooking some of his other bad habits.

I was cumming on his fingers and tongue in less than 5 minutes and I was panting as if I'd run a marathon. Despite wanting to enjoy the afterglow, I lunged off the desk and attacked his trousers. Needed to show my appreciation urgently.

He stood, and I was able to yank his pants and underwear down, then inhaled his dick like it was the very air itself. I was so high from my own orgasm I entirely missed the warning signs of his. His cum shot into my mouth and shocked me, causing me to pull back, getting his second shot across my tits.

Harry flopped back into his chair with a look of bliss and shock about what had just happened.

As I scooped up his cum from my tits and licked my fingers clean, I was in two minds about what happened. Disappointed he'd not fucked me but also relieved he didn't. When this started, I wondered if it would go that far, and I hadn't intended to do that.

I pulled on my panties and blouse. Harry was still kinda out of it and I hurriedly grabbed my jeans from the kitchenette, then hurried into my office. Wondering if the others heard me, or suspected I'd fucked Harry.

End Game

When I got home, dad handed me the jobs pages, saying it was time to start looking for another job. I was only weeks away from 12 months experience at the garage, and it took all my willpower not to smirk as he said that. My experience there was not what he thought. I agreed, but snuck off to my room after dinner and fucked myself until the batteries in my vibrator ran out.

Given how my parent's avoided me on Saturday, I'm sure they must have heard me. Not that it stopped me recharging my toy and using it while they were out shopping. By Sunday evening, I'd finally taken the time to look at the job adverts and filled in online forms for new jobs.

When I told Harry I'd be leaving sometime soon, he looked sad and asked if it was his fault for getting carried away on Friday. I reassured him it wasn't that and reminded him I'd told him I would be leaving after 12 months. He must have told the others as each was down when they came to get their hand jobs from me.

They accepted what we'd had wasn't going to go on forever, and as a reward I took off my bra and let them play with my tits. When Tony came in for his turn on Wednesday, he admitted he was devastated. Hoping I'd eventually give in and actually suck him off.

I told him not to tell the others and gave into my own desires and sucked him until he shot off over my tits. The next day my last visitor was Andy. I let him play with my tits for a long time before I took out his dick and sucked him off. Letting him cum in my mouth and showing him, I swallowed it all.

I got a call asking me to attend an interview on Friday lunch time. I was excited, even though I heard the mechanics who had their hand jobs cancelled grumble. The interview was a doddle as they were desperate for a new receptionist but were prepared to train me up for accountancy work later.

I returned to work with a job offer and handed in my notice. Meaning this was my second to last Friday.

Intending to go out with a bang, I stripped down to my sexiest underwear to serve them their 'brew.' Fortunately, it was a windy day, and the large garage door had been shut. Otherwise, any passersby would have seen me. After serving the mechanics, I serviced Harry, then serviced him again with my mouth.

He admitted he was going to miss me, both for my specific skills and my more mundane ones.

On Monday, I started my last week, knowing I had one more round with my boys, as I'd started to think of them. All but Tony and Andy were surprised when I sucked each guy off and let them cum on my chest. When it was Tony's turn, he surprised me, by asking if he could lick me instead.

As I slipped out of my panties, I had a twinge of doubt that he'd use my nudity to try to fuck me. But he dove in and attacked my pussy with enough skill to rethink my attitude to him. I'd assumed he was a cocky sod, now I thought he might deserve to feel a bit cocky if he did that so well.

Andy came to me in my office and said he was the last slot on the rota for Friday lunch time. But he had a dentist appointment, so he'd miss out. I think I was as upset by this as he was. He was the trigger for the events that had led to some of the most exciting events of my life.

Friday morning arrived and when Harry walked into work at 9:30, I made him his tea and went into his office. He gave me a sad smile, but perked up as I slipped off my blouse, showing no bra. Then he positively beamed as I slipped off my jeans and panties. Coming around to his side of the desk I knelt with my legs apart and ran my hand over my tits and pussy.

Before reaching out to unzip him.

"You know you're going to be pretty hard to find a replacement for."

I sniggered as I pulled out his erection.

"Because of this?" I asked and sank my mouth over it.

"Not just that. Oh Fuck!" He murmured as I flicked my tongue rapidly over his opening. "To be honest, I only offered you the job as a favour to your dad. I didn't think you would stick around. Wouldn't commit to the job."

"Job, or job?" I asked and forced his dick as deep as I could into my throat.

He chuckled, then his phone rang. He swore and awkwardly picked it up. Awkwardly, as I didn't want to stop sucking him. It was either a point of pride or just my stubbornness that no dick had ever gone unsatisfied. When I got my hands and other body parts on it.

He promised the caller he'd call them back, and about 5 minutes after I'd started, he shot his cum over my tits. I rubbed it over my skin before wiping it up with the stack of paper towels I'd left from the hand jobs in the office.

"So, what are you planning on wearing this afternoon? It's gonna have to be special to top last week."

"This..." I gestured to my naked body.

"Oh, well that is special." As I reached for my clothes, he stopped me.

Hugging me and kissing me lightly on the lips.

"I meant it about you being special. And not just because of this." He added and gave my bum a squeeze.

I gave my last lunchtime blow job and felt sad that I'd not finished with Andy. Part of me wanted to stay at the garage, but I knew that was mostly because I feared change. Also, I knew that if I kept going, I'd end up fucking the guys and it would get out somehow. Better to make a clean cut and move on. But I doubted any other place I worked would give the same motivational perks that we did here.

And before you think I was being used, I was loving it. It let out my nasty side and fuelled all kinds of naughty fantasies.

Just after 3 pm, I heard the giant garage doors closing. Knowing what was coming next, I shivered in anticipation. Had Harry told the guys I'd be nude, or would it be a surprise?

At quarter past, I couldn't wait any longer and walked through the workshop to the kitchenette. I noticed that the guys had all finished for the day and had even tidied up. When I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to see Harry there and spreading out party food. A platter of sandwiches, pork pies and cocktail sausages. Next to the sink were cans of lager and beer, and in the sink was a bucket full of ice and a bottle of champagne.

"For me?" I asked, and he grinned.

"What else for my best girl."

"You're only girl." I corrected. "Show time?" I asked, and he smiled.

Stripping to my socks and shoes, Harry took my clothes and placed them in a cupboard. Explaining it was best not to leave them around; in case some bright spark decided to hide them and force me to go home nude. The idea actually excited me. I was getting too used to letting my depraved part of my brain take charge.

Loading up a plate with a selection of beer, I took a deep breath and sauntered out of the kitchen to a barrage of comments.

"Fuck me!" "Look at the tits on that!", "I think I've died and gone to heaven.", "I fucking knew she shaved." And so on.

The men quickly surrounded me as I handed out the beer. It's hard to describe what it's like to be naked and surrounded by a dozen horny men. Especially as I'd sucked every one of their dicks in the last week. I told them to let me get more beer and squeezed through them. Only to have everyone follow me into the kitchen.

The room could barely fit us all and we were pressed against each other. There were hands groping me from all directions as I tried to move about to get them the beer. Harry ordered us all out into the workshop so he could open my champagne.

I've no idea if he planned it or not, but when the cork shot out, I was sprayed with champagne all over my tits.

"Not the first time this week." I joked as Andy handed me some paper towel.

"Idiot!" Tony said and cuffed the back of Andy's head.

"What?"

"If you'd been a moment slower, I could have offered to lick it up."

"After the amount of cum you lot have sprayed over my tits this week?" I quipped back,

"Yeah, gay!" someone said and everyone laughed at Tony.

It was weird chatting to the guys about my future plans while naked and knowing each guy was thinking about fucking me. I was super turned on as it was, and the champagne was going right to my head. I missed both breakfast and lunch that day.

Someone suggested a group photo and the closet photographer lined us up with me in the middle. I was a little worried, until Harry placed a baseball cap on me, hiding most of my hair. Then handed me his half-moon glasses as a disguise. After the group shot, I was posed leaning back against a stack of tires. Tilting my head to one side as Arthur stood with his back to the camera next to me. Holding out a spanner.

Then I was handed a clipboard and pen and posed in front of a chart of engine parts on the wall. Pointing to one as a couple of the mechanics watched me. They talked about posing me in my office, but it was too small, so instead they agreed to take individual photos with me.

I made them promise to keep them to themselves and took off the cap and glasses. Most of the guys simply stood next to me with an arm around my shoulder or waist. A few stood behind me and grinned over my shoulder and put their arms around my waist. Tony, being Tony, took it a step further and hovered his hands about 1mm under my tits. Making it look like he was grabbing me.

It was getting close to 4:30 and Harry said it was time for me to pack up and dress. Which caused a chorus of boos. Then he suggested one last kiss each before I left.

Not that I minded, but I should have guessed that not only would it be a kiss on the lips. But my boobs and bum were fair game while I kissed. When I saw Tony, I made a point of snapping my legs together and putting my hand over my pussy. He pouted but kissed me and said he'd miss me.

I saw Andy at the end of the line as usual and whispered to Harry to ask to use his office one last time. Nodding to Andy. Harry nodded, and I kissed the last guys.

Andy came in for his kiss, but I stopped him with a finger to his lips. He frowned, and it was so adorable. The sad puppy look. Instead, I took his hand and guided him to Harry's office. Causing a cheer from the others.

He looked to the couch where I'd sat for previous sessions, but I shook my head.

"I want you naked this time. After all, I'm naked, I think I deserve to see all of you. Not just your dick."

If I wasn't already dripping wet, seeing his slim but muscular frame would have done it.

"Now, I could give you a boring old blow job again, or..."

I looked eager as I sat on the edge of Harry's desk.

"Or, if you'd lick this..." I opened my legs and stroked my pussy. "Just for a while, I might find something better than my hand and mouth to put over your dick."

"Seriously?"

"If you do a good job."

Fuck was he eager. Kneeling and forcing his tongue inside me in an instant. I felt a tiny bit of disappointment that he wasn't as good as Tony, but that took time and practise. If we were dating, I'd teach him, but we weren't. And to be honest the way I was feeling I'd have taken anything.

After only a couple of minutes, I pulled him up.

"Good enough for the grand prize." I pulled him towards me, and he stumbled.

By some miracle, his dick stabbed into me close enough to my opening to slip inside. All the way inside. I thought my eyes might pop out of my head by being so quickly filled with his man meat.

"Sorry." He said.

"It's OK, just make sure I cum before you do."

"I'll try, but I'm pretty worked up."

I lay back on the desk as he fucked me and played with my tits. Wondering if the others were outside listening.

"That's its Andy fuck me good." I said loudly, and he hesitated for a moment. Until I nodded towards the door.

"Fuck! Your big dick feels so good inside my hungry cunt." That one surprised us both. The C word is something I never say. But it seemed to fit the situation.

I'd never tried dirty talk during sex and knowing I had an aural audience added hot sauce to an already hot situation. Andy was fucking me like a sewing machine, and I felt my orgasm gathering.

"I'm really close." He said with desperation.

"Then do it. Cum inside me." I called out. Then added in a whisper. "Just keep going until I cum."

Feeling his squirting inside me again and again opened the floodgates, and I climaxed hard. Despite having done extraordinarily little, I was gasping for air. Andy pulled out shakily.

"Wait," I said. "You'll drip cum on the carpet."

I slipped off the desk and sucked and licked him clean. Then I looked around for my clothes. Remembering they were in the kitchen. Once Andy was dressed, I led him from the office like a prize boxer having won the world championship. To the cheers and applause from the other guys. Mixed in with a few 'jammy bastards.'

I knew they could see my flushed face and chest. Probably my puffy labia, but I wasn't sure if they saw the cum leaking down my thigh. It was about 5 pm by the time I'd dressed and gathered my stuff. Harry handed me an envelope with a stack of cash in it.

"It's a leaving bonus. Nothing to do with your extra motivational activities. Just your regular work."

I stuffed it into my bag and accepted a second hug and kiss from everyone. This time just the regular kind as the garage doors were open again.

My friends called to ask if I was joining them in the pub or hanging out with the greasy mechanics. When I got to the pub, they asked if I'd got anything special from the guys. My mind shot back to Andy fucking me, and all the blow jobs I'd done that week.

I said the guys weren't the sort for soppy gifts. After someone handed me a pint, they noticed the envelope in my bag, and I said it was a bonus. It was snatched away and examined.

"Fuck me that's about £500. What did you do to earn that? Fuck your boss over his desk?" she asked jokingly.

"No. Not fucking. I blew him a few times a week and wanked off the others on a rota."

"Really?" One girl asked, and the others burst out laughing a moment later.

"She'd winding you up, Gail. Even our slutty friend wouldn't go that far."

I grinned and then hid my satisfied smile behind my glass. It felt good to get it off my chest, even if nobody else knew I was telling the truth.

The End

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