Construction Kink

I'm working hard on a construction crew in Richmond's trendy west end. Building a big ugly-ass six-story condo complex on Thompson Street, right along Interstate 195. They'll be charging ridiculously high rent for 450 tiny NYC-style apartments, marketed toward all those post-COVID teleworking "super commuters" from bigger cities. A bunch of elite liberal douchebags from Georgetown and Greenwich Village. The building is next to a major highway with a major rail line going right down the middle. Loud train whistles and exhaust fumes galore, but rich men north of Richmond are already lining up to buy them so they can brag about living in a "vintage walkable neighborhood," lowering their "carbon footprint." Calling for "environmental justice" and "living wages" on Facebook while sipping $8 coffees at an air-conditioned Starbucks, tapping on overpriced iPhones made by slave workers in heavily polluting China.

That massive eyesore is about half finished, towering over a semi-suburban 1920's neighborhood. The core structure is fully in place, and now we have to add windows before we can fill out the interior. I'm working right outside the first floor with Team C, consisting of Jake, Paul, Craig, Diego, Luis, Francisco, Juan, and yours truly, screwing heavy glass doors onto the main entrance portal. A hard day job to put bread on the table and support my porn writing hobby. Manual labor keeps my dirty mind in check and keeps my body in good shape for the ladies, so you don't hear me complaining.

"Ay dios mío, aquí viene de nuevo!" Diego exclaims pleasantly in a smooth Nicaraguan accent. (Oh my god, here she comes again!)

"Looky-looky, here comes that ginger cookie!" Paul adds eagerly.

We all turn our heads north toward the trendy Carytown district. A gorgeous twenty-something redhead is jogging toward us on the sidewalk in a tight blue Lululemon outfit, just like she has every morning around 11:30 ever since we broke ground on this monstrosity. I assume she's a trophy housewife with no kids, working up a sweat to purge out toxins and "negative vibes." Working up her appetite for a healthy lunch while her corporate husband leads a board meeting at an office somewhere (or at home on Zoom.) Five foot six with big green eyes, chiseled curvy legs, abs of steel and a flat streamlined chest. With a body like that, who needs hooters?

"Hell yeah, Little Red! You're looking fine today," Paul beams. She pretends not to notice us as usual, sneaking a few sidelong glances.

"Shit, girl, I love the way you move. I wish you were my girlfriend, and I was your 'personal trainer,'" Craig snickers.

I've been fantasizing about that awesome redhead every single night, just like everyone else here. I'm a crazy BDSM buff, so I always picture her bound and gagged in a tight yogic pose, twisted up on one of those metal pipe contraptions they love using on kink. com. Whipping her milky white flesh real good with a red leather dragon tail, leaving a trail of red stripes from tits to pussy before I fuck her nice and hard. But of course you can't shout freaky shit like that in public to complete strangers, so I take a more "vanilla" approach:

"Come on, honey. You've been jogging by here on purpose every fucking day. I know you've been having Magic Mike fantasies about these hunky construction dudes."

The other guys chuckle at my witty writerly dialogue. The redhead suddenly slows down, coming to a halt in front of the unfinished foyer. Turning toward me with a wry grin on her sweaty face.

"All right, I admit it. You guys totally turn me on," she utters pantingly.

"Holy shit," I snicker, with a figurative bolt of lightning striking my cock.

"Mierda sí. Mamacita needs a little 'side hustle,'" Juan remarks.

"You talk grande, amigo... but do you carry a big stick?" she quips back.

"Damn, boys, we got a live one here," Paul beams.

"I wanna find out how 'live' she really is," I reply eagerly, surging with testosterone.

"You guys keep saying you want to have a wild orgy with me, so let's have a wild orgy."

"Shit, yo," Craig chortles. "I love these neo-feminist 'take control of my pleasure' bitches."

"I want you to take control of me, guys. I've always dreamed about getting tied up in a half-finished building like this."

"Fuck yeah, ginger," I groan pleasantly, with my dick rising under my tight blue jeans. "You're the kinky redhead of my dreams."

"You ain't too bad-looking either," she replies seductively, tossing her sweaty copper bangs and giving me "the eye."

"Your place or mine?" I croak like a horndog teenager.

"My place," she beams. "But not the place I'm living at right now, a few blocks away at Malvern Manor. The place I will be living at, next year."

"Where's that?"

She grins naughtily and points her finger straight above us. "Way up there. Condo 623."

Holy shit! "But... we're not supposed to take visitors up there, and it doesn't even have windows yet."

"But I'm a bad girl, and I always get what I want."

"Jodidamente calientes, muchachos!" Francisco beams. "Let's give this pelirroja llameante what she wants!"

"Si si, amigo," I reply warmly. "How about 6:30 tonight, after the last construction crew leaves the site."

"Fine by me, honey," she utters sweetly.

"Meet us by the big dumpster in the back of this building, by that privacy fence along I-195 where no one else can see us going in."

"Good thinking. Oh, by the way, my name isn't 'Little Red.' It's Eileen."

"Oooh, Eileen. Too-ra-loo-ra, too-ra-loo-rye, aye. I love spicy Irish lasses."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Five long hours later, our shift finally ends. C crew stops tacking insulation sheathing onto the exterior walls, and we hang out in a shady city park across the street on Thompson avenue. Interstate 195 buzzes loudly in a little concrete canyon along the edge of the park, with piercing train whistles ringing out every twenty minutes or so. Watching a bunch of kinky porn videos on our phones to get in the mood, like WWE wrestlers getting psyched up for the Royal Rumble. I've dominated lots of women ever since my English major days at VCU, but I never had the balls to try public sex or 'trespassing sex' of any kind. I'm about to tick a big box off my bucket list.

6:20 rolls around, and we hustle back over to the job site, watching our foreman blast off onto 195 in a kick-ass Range Rover. Chirping his 'off-road' tires and cutting off three compact cars, Fast and Furious style.

"Big boss man can't wait to bang his blonde bombshell wife," Diego remarks.

"We got our little ginger treat, coming right up," I snicker.

We wait impatiently by a big dumpster, watching more slutty internet bitches getting whipped and spanked silly, soaked from head to toe with powerful hoses in a San Francisco "dungeon." I love playing water bondage games with sexy Richmonders, but I'm shit out of luck tonight because none of these overpriced condos are hooked up to the utilities grid yet. (Did you hear about that crazy water supply crisis in RVA in January 2025? Probably not, because it happened at the same time as the L. A. wildfire crisis.)

Eileen finally arrives fifteen minutes later, sashaying around the corner in a two-piece pink spandex number that leaves little to the imagination. Inspiring loud cat-whistles and cat-calling from all six of us.

"Awww yeaaah, that's what I'm talkin' about!" Craig exclaims.

"Esa perra pelirroja está que arde!" Luis beams. (That redhead bitch is on fire!)

"I love your formal evening attire," I add sarcastically, with my dick rising once again.

"I love your witty one-liners," she replies sweetly. "Let's cut the chit-chat and do some crazy construction kink."

"Yes ma'am, foreman," Dale replies eagerly. "Or fore-person, I guess."

"Fuck that P. C. bullshit," Eileen snickers. She leads us toward the wide open back entrance which we'll seal up with glass doors tomorrow. I admire her awesome ass and badonkadonk, slithering like a diamondback rattler through a blazing desert. I'm gonna spank the hell out of that "snake."

"The elevator is turned off for the night, and we don't have the key to turn it on again, so we'll have to take the stairs all the way up," I say.

"That's okay. You know I'm a hardcore exercise junkie," she replies sweetly.

We entered the swelteringly hot fireproof stairway and hoof it all the way up to the sixth floor hallway. The barebones postmodern architecture reminds me of The Sexual Adventures of Little Red, my favorite European "porno chic" movie about a bunch of sleazy punk skateboarders squatting in an abandoned factory. "Big bad wolves" gangbanging a barely legal ginger intruder.

Eileen pauses in front of 623, turning toward us with a playful grin. "Here we are! Home sweet future home."

She prances through the doorless portal into a tiny condo with no windows and no drywall. The dull roar of I-195 traffic reverberates throughout the skeletal building. This mid-size city used to be the capital of the confederacy, but now it's turning into South Manhattan and East Beverly Hills. I see nothing but blue sky through the glassless windows, high above a "Roaring 20's" Virginia neighborhood full of humble two-story brick houses.

"We just caught you breaking and entering, bitch. You're under arrest!" I grunt playfully, getting into my usual creative dominator character.

"But I didn't break anything, officer. I just 'entered.'"

"Shut the fuck up, you redhead skank."

I grab her arms and press them tightly together behind her back.

"I'm gonna string you up on the rafters, like Halloween Haunt at Kings Dominion."

"Si, señor," Francisco chuckles. "Make this bitch our own private thrill ride."

I yank off her skimpy pink two piece, revealing pointy pink nipples and a sweet fire crotch. Making all the blue-collar boys cheer. I move her hands around to her front side and grab some zip ties from the tool box. I zip her wrists tightly together, then I jerk her arms up toward exposed beams and use another zip tie to lock her in a vertical position.

"Get her feet too."

"Fuck yeah, Jake the Snake. I'm gonna spread her legs real wide with that wooden beam."

I grab a three foot-long board and quickly hammer two u-shaped nails on either end. Two more zip ties around her ankles makes a makeshift spreader bar, locking her legs in a tight inverted Y-shape. Just like Jillian Janson in Taboo: Dark Dreams.

"All naked and kinked up in public, like a naughty fucking girl," Paul growls.

"Get naked too, ya dirty builders," Eileen utters seductively. "I wanna get jacked by your hammers."

"Yes ma'am, Miss foreman," I reply warmly. We quickly remove our sweaty construction uniforms, cooling off nicely on a muggy summer evening.

"Nice cocks, boys. Let's see how you handle them."

"Let's see how you handle our pain, bitch," I growl savagely, pulling my black leather belt out of my blue jeans. I swing it hard right away, striking her square across those cute pink nipples.

"Oooh yeah," she swoons, swinging from the rafters. "Make it hurt, boy!"

I swing harder two more times, hitting the same spot and making her swoon louder.

"You sure love running, ginger. But you can't run away now!"

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"Oh fuck, whoop my titties real good!" she groans, thrusting her hips like a man with a rock hard cock. "Come on guys, stop slacking off and get to work!"

"Sí señora. I'm gonna punish that gato rojo like MS-13!" Diego beams. Everyone else fishes out their belts and swoops right in, gang-whipping her from tits to twat. Her loud guttural groaning gets drowned out by heavy traffic on I-195 beyond the glassless window, with no houses or city streets three hundred feet in either direction. Nobody has their windows open on a hot southern night like this, and hardly anyone goes outside for fresh air and exercise anymore, not even on spectacular spring days. Thank you very much, Mark Zuckerburg.

"Oh god, yeeees!" she wails theatrically. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fffffUUUUCK!"

I love the way her lithe athletic body twists and turns with every blow, revealing many hidden muscles and sinews. Her milky white flesh gets redder and redder, just like those crazy kink. com videos where girls never use the safe words that they establish in the opening chitchat sequences. Those submissive cunts are usually annoying, spouting a bunch of buzzwords like "consent is sexy!"

I can't get a blow in edgewise, so I circle around to the rear flank and grab a long thick heavy-duty nylon strap that hangs from the doorless bedroom door frame.

"Come on Eileen, oh I swear well he means / At this moment, you mean everything / You with no dress, my thoughts I confess, verge on dirty..."

I stop singing and start swinging, turning that industrial load-bearing strap into a makeshift bullwhip. Barely jiggling her tight athletic ass with a loud crisp WAAASH!

"Oh god yeah! Slam my naughty ass, motherfucker!"

WAAASH! WAAASH! WAAASH! WAAASH! WAAASH!

Nylon and leather lashes that hot redhead from every angle, driving her delightfully insane. This is even better than the time I dominated my redhead medieval poetry professor in her Victorian house on Harvey Street, a few blocks away from the VCU building where she flirted with me after a class about Chaucer's bawdy Miller's Tale. So many cute shy gingers haunted that prestigious English department, turning my casual fetish into a total obsession.

A train horn rings out in the concrete canyon below us, followed by a blast of putrid diesel fumes through the glassless windows. The main north-south rail line from Maine to Miami, sandwiched between six lanes of auto traffic.

"Damn, girl," Craig chortles. "Are you seriously gonna spend three grand a month to live right above all those fuckin' trucks and freight trains?"

"It's a great walkable neighborhood," she replies proudly, ignoring all logic.

"You must be one of those crazy liberal elites from Washington, teleworking in Richmond to save a few bucks," I utter theatrically. "Fucking up the real estate market and voting for every democrat, raising taxes sky-high and letting criminals walk free so they'll vote for every democrat. Hoping those crooks won't break into your high-priced condo, robbing and raping you."

"I'm not a DC liberal. I'm a republican from Manassas," she replies indignantly.

"Kiss my Manassas."

I whip her pussy six more times, buckling her knees in masochistic ecstasy. Turning her into a pathetic dangling Raggedy Ann doll. Making me feel so damn manly, getting a good power fix in my otherwise powerless life. A broke joke who's never had a steady girlfriend. I picture busty "Little Red" getting fucked hard by a ripped punk in a big weird cylindrical concrete chamber, somewhere in Europe. A decommissioned power plant? There's no way to find out. Most guys don't "geek out" about porn like I do.

"A-hoooo fuuuuuuuuck," she groans toward the open ceiling, where air conditioning vents and fancy track lighting will eventually be installed. "That's enough, boys. Fuck the shit out of me!"

"Joder sí, nena," Francisco beams. "Let's tie this bitch up like a horse, and ride her like a bull."

I cut her down from the rafters with a pair of utility scissors, and cut off that makeshift spreader bar from her ankles. I see an empty wooden wire spool in the future kitchen, and my face lights up with yet another perverted idea.

"Come on, Little Red. We're gonna gangbang you like the Spanish Inquisition."

"The Spanish what?" Dale replies.

"Read some real books instead of Facebook, dude."

I drag Eileen over to that spool and drape her body face-up over the curving slats, stretching out her lean body in a nice inverted C-shape. Eight more zip ties do the trick, binding her wrists and ankles to four metal rungs that jut out of the floor to brace a future washing machine. Paul shoves his big dick through her lips while I shove my bigger dick through her other "lips."

"Fuck yeah, Little Red!" I growl triumphantly, pounding her balls-deep while Paul gags her over and over. "Getting the trouble you asked for, from big bad wolves."

"A-woooooo!" Dale howls comically, masturbating on the sidelines. I smack her perky tits a dozen times, making her moan and groan louder against Paul's rod. Her hot silky pussy feels so fucking good, tightly wrapped around my thick throbbing cock. The best sex I ever had, bar none. I'm trying damn hard not to blow my load so soon.

"Over the highway and through Carytown, to grandmother's condo we go..." Jake sings parodically.

"Change up!" Luis barks. I reluctantly pull out of her hot bod, and so does Paul. The other four guys take turns fucking her like a kinky yoga instructor.

"Namaste, ya fuckin' ginger skank!" Dale growls, spanking her ass even more.

"Maldita sea, a esta perra le encanta que le hagan una garganta profunda," Juan growls louder. (Damn, this bitch loves getting deep-throated.)

"Mmm-hmmmm!" Eileen screams against his pistoning prick, in-between gags. Long ropes of spittle ooze out of her upside-down face, stringing down to the bare unsanded floorboards. The ganbang conveyer belt finally spins back to me and Paul. I shove my dick through her bright red lips, cock-choking her with reckless abandon.

"God damn, you're a good fucking ginger," I groan, smacking her pale white cheeks with both hands. "I wanna smack you up every fucking night in apartment 623."

"Mmm-hmmmmm!"

"Damn, I loved that show 'Don't Trust the B-- in Apartment 23," I muse nostalgically.

"Oh yeah, that Chloe bitch was funny as hell," Craig chuckles. "Why do the best sitcoms always get cancelled after just one or two seasons, while that Law and Order shit lasts fucking forever?"

I move to her opposite end and pound her dripping wet pussy with my raw throbbing prick. Burying my face in her cute little boobs, sucking those sweet pink nipples. Faster, harder, faster, harder, veering out of control like an eighteen-wheeler on 195.

"Come on Eileen," Paul grunts. "All over her fucking face!"

I pull out and aim right between her big green eyes, turning them solid white. Roaring toward the half-finished ceiling, surging with tremendous orgasmic energy. My splooge oozes down into her dangling red bangs, mixing with her drool, making her look like such a kinky freak.

"Hell yeah, boy!" Paul cheers. "Let's bukkake this Irish lass, Japanese style."

He tags me out and rubs one out on her forehead, making her groan in perverted rapture. The other guys line up behind him, waiting impatiently. They splatter every square inch of her face as she sticks her tongue out to savor as much as possible.

"Oooooh yeaaaah, so much hot jizz. Tastes so good on a hot day," she groans.

"A nice sugar-free protein shake after your workout," I remark.

"Better than all those cheap cum sluts back in Managua," Diego utters dreamily.

"You've had your fun, boys. Cut me loose," she giggles. We free her from bondage and she sashays toward the gaping window, fingering every drop of splooge into her mouth while admiring her future bird's eye view of Richmond's trendy west end. "Damn, I can't wait to move in here."

"I can't wait to finish building this monstrosity," I grunt while massaging her whip-raw ass.

"We're gonna gangbang you again when this place has windows, and air conditioning," Craig grunts.

"Totally, bro," Eileen beams. "In the meantime, I want this guy all to myself," she adds slyly, turning around and grabbing my shrinking penis.

"For real, girl? You wanna do the whole 'girlfriend' thing with me?"

"Fuck yeah. I love your dom style. Let's have a real date tomorrow night, with a real dinner."

"Sure thing, babe," I beam back. "There's a great little restaurant in Carytown I always go to. Greek on Cary."

"I love moussaka too. Meet me there at 6:00, and then we'll catch an old artsy movie at the Byrd Theater. And then we'll get real 'artsy' at my place."

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," I croon like Humphrey Bogart. Geeking out yet again.

"A construction worker who likes Casablanca? Damn, boy, you're a real keeper!"