Video Surveillance

I've mentioned previously that I don't shit where I eat if I can at all avoid it. Don't dip my pen in company ink. And then I've told stories which totally give the lie to this statement, but they were extenuating circumstances like we weren't both actively employed by the same agency, or I was really horny and tired. Do as I say, not as I do, kids.

One of my latest gigs is building some set things for a theater in the area, and while they have a shop area and some tools, it's just a sector of floor in a warehouse. The rest of the floor is taken up with pallets of things and storage for things, most of which don't belong to the theater in question. But hey, it's indoors. I've had to work outside before, and that shit is no fun at all. And the pay is decent. And it's nothing I haven't done before, plus it gets me out of the house and moving around.

Anyway, before I give too much identifying information away, suffice it to say that sometimes I'm in this warehouse with strangers working on other things. Most of them, amusingly enough, are little old ladies. Most of the time I'm alone because I'm working late. But the other day I was working at a normal enough hour, late enough that the little old ladies had gone home but not so late that no one was in the building.

When I work, I get... I know girls aren't supposed to admit this, but I get hot and sweaty. If I'm doing manual labor, it can be freezing outside and I'll be in a short sleeve shirt. And it was unseasonably warm, so I was wearing a tank top. Not super flattering, I didn't think, but it exposes a fair amount of skin. Since I wasn't really expecting anyone to be there but me, I didn't really think about it.

Instead of the little old ladies, there was an older guy there, not old enough to be my father but certainly older than me. He was puttering around doing whatever it is you do with pallets in this particular warehouse, and I didn't pay him any mind, just waved hello when I came in and saw him and started to work. I must stress again that I was not wearing fuck-me clothing in any way, but I was showing off some skin because it gets hot.

I caught him taking a peek. I had bent over for some reason and he was scoping out my ass. Dirty old man. No biggie. I let him look. I didn't do anything provocative, but hell, I ogle, why shouldn't he be allowed to? It's not like he could ogle the little old ladies. I don't know, maybe he does, whatever, none of my business. I put him in the back of my mind and kept working because frankly I've got deadlines to meet and if I were going to personally accost every man who'd ever eye-banged me a little, I'd have no time for anything else. I'm not saying this because I'm so amazing to look at. I'm saying this because I'm a femme-presenting person.

So yeah, let it slide, kept working, but every so often I'd catch him looking out of my peripheral vision. He wasn't getting much of his work done. Getting less and less easy to pretend he wasn't doing it.

Finally, I caught his eye and smiled, not come-hither, just, "Hi, I won't bite." He looked away hurriedly, but he looked back after a second and I was still standing there and didn't look like I was going to kill him, I guess, so he plucked up his courage and came over.

There was incredibly awkward small talk about nothing. I don't need to repeat it. Finally, because it seemed like he was coming on to me a little, I said, "Like what you see?" See, I'm a giver, and he wasn't bad to look at, and tired and horny don't judge me I like older men just fine.

His face got a little red and he started to apologize, and I just said, "It's no problem, really. I don't mind. If you wanted to see more, I'd oblige."

He looked guilty. "Miss, I'm married. I shouldn't be talking like this."

"I'm married too. Nothing says you can't like what you see." See, I'm not a good person sometimes. Because I'm pretty sure that for a lot of people, eye-banging a stranger is just as much cheating on your wife as fucking a stranger. But I'm not the morality police, and I wasn't being tempting, just stating the facts of the matter.

"Well in that case..." he got a little flustered. "I do like what I see."

"And you'd like to see more?"

"I... I would."

It should be interjected at this point what the title of the post should have given away, which is that there are cameras protecting this warehouse. I was warned about them when I started working there. I was also, clandestinely, told where I could go to avoid them. Probably not in the standard on-boarding briefing, but I know people. I make it my business to know all the secluded corners in places. Not just for this sort of thing, but it comes in handy.

But I wasn't about to lead him to a secluded corner, not yet at any rate. I had a nibble but I hadn't really set the hook (I have occasionally been fishing so I know the metaphors even if I am terrible at the actual activity).  "Well, there are cameras around, you know. Can't be too obvious."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." I shushed him.

"What do you want to see?"

"Um... your caboose is... that is, I'd like to see more of your... butt."

I can't say I was surprised. He'd been ogling the ass the hardest. Some days I feel like my ass is lacking, but the adoration he was giving it was a real confidence booster. Calling it a caboose though? Yeah, I thought it was kind of cute, in a weird way. Definitely father-figure language, and you know me and father figures. "I can arrange that. Why don't you go back to work and keep an eye on me."

It is alarmingly easy to let your pants ride down a little when you bend over. Mine rode lower and lower, like I wasn't thinking about it. I was being provocative now, pointing my ass in his direction every time I had to bend over. Knowing that I was driving him a little crazy made me a little crazy. I caught his eye again. This time, he looked right back, and I gave him a smile which was definitely farther down the spectrum toward come-hither.

He sauntered over with a big grin on his face. "You're sure you like what you see?" I teased him, glancing down until he noticed that he was sporting a bit of a protrusion in his pants.

"Oh hell, I'm sorry, it's just..."

"I like it," I cut him off. "But it must be hard to work around."

"If I was ten years younger..."

"What would you do that you can't do right now?"

That stopped him for a moment, I think. He was probably wondering whether he'd died and gone to heaven. Again, I'm not saying this to puff myself up, but come on, he had to have been wondering what the game was, at the very least.

"I would... well, I'd like to kiss those pretty cheeks of yours," he stammered.

"That's all?"

"And... I'd probably..." He trailed off.

"Come on, spit it out, you've got me wondering. Would you, I don't know, whip out that big hard cock and fuck me with it?"

He reddened again, but finally he said, "Yes ma'am, I believe I'd do that."

Now the hook. "I know a place where there are no cameras..." I said suggestively.

He shook himself. "My wife would kill me if she knew I was talking to you like this."

"I'm not going to tell her. I guess you won't either."

"I've never... I mean..."

I relaxed the pressure a little. "Honey, look, it's fine. Like I said, no harm in looking or enjoying it. But if you're not comfortable..."

He was putty. "Hell no, I can't just look. Not with this stiffy. Where's that place with no cameras? You're sure they can't see?"

I figured the best place was actually the unisex bathroom. We met there, after suitable skulduggery. He was nervous but he got over it once he got to pull my pants totally down, then my panties (sensible ones but still sexy), and then he was worshiping my ass. I haven't gotten that level of attention from a man in a while. It felt nice.

"Something tells me you're an ass man," I giggled.

"For yours, yes I am."

"Well, I know what would be a real treat for you then."

"What's that?"

"Anal." He stopped dead.

"You're joking? I've never... I mean, I've seen pornos, but the wife isn't the adventurous type. You really want me to do your butt like that?"

"Honey, I love it. And you deserve a nice time." And I want you to think of me every time you see your wife and wish I were her. I am a bad person, but yeah, there was a little of that.

"What do I do? I mean... I've never..."

"Let me lube you up a little." I was carrying my lube for just such an eventuality, so why not take advantage.

I was kind of glad I suggested lube because he was packing a nice cock. Full, thick, circumcised with a large head. And with anal on the table neither of us needed any further foreplay than a nice lube massage, slicking him up. Then I bent over the sink, gave him a few pointers, and he pressed into my ass quite nicely thank you.

With some encouragement, he started fucking me hard. Like, teeth-rattling, bone-shaking hard. I'm glad we didn't break the sink. I'm also glad no one else was around because I was unable to keep quiet. I was wailing.

It's not that I haven't had it up the ass at all recently, but it's been sparse, and this guy was enjoying the hell out of it in a way which made me enjoy it even more. Feeling the constant thumping pressure on my colon, the slippery in and out, just turned my crank deliciously. I can't cum from just anal, not without some manual help, but the way he was fucking me, I came damn close. I couldn't get my hand between my legs without it getting crushed between my pelvis and the sink, and he was gripping my ass with both hands, so I just got to experience this exquisite tension, begging to be released. I haven't had it like that in forever, honestly. Usually hard and fast in the bathroom means quick orgasms, and my partner was clearly in it for the long haul, so I just moaned a bunch of nonsense and rode the wave as it built and built.

Finally he pulled back and I felt desperately empty. I don't always feel that way, but boy howdy, I wanted him back inside me. "I'm gonna go off," he said.

"Inside me, please!" I begged.

And then, rookie mistake, he misunderstood and jammed his cock into my pussy, and holy shit did I cum. I came so hard that I didn't even know he was cumming.Gorgeous, wave after wave of spasms. I won't say I almost blacked out, but I almost fell on the floor. I haven't cum like that in a while. It was enervating. I didn't have anything left.

There was a bit more awkwardness as we cleaned up, at least as much as I cared to. My asshole drooled cum into my panties for an hour afterward. He seemed like he was suffering from fucker's remorse, probably thinking about his wife, but he didn't think about her enough to avoid asking if I wanted another. And you'll be shocked to hear this, but I didn't think I could take it. I think he was relieved, honestly. Maybe he could have gotten it up again, but his cock didn't look like it was in any kind of shape to do anything about it if I had said yes.

After that, I was walking bowlegged and I decided discretion was the better part of valor and it was quitting time for me, regardless of how much work I still had to do. So I went home and told Sveta all about it. She was jealous, of me not him. Said he sounded like a worthwhile lay, and I think that about sums it up. My wife is the best.