After I left high school, I really didn't fancy going to college to sit in a classroom learning about stuff I had no interest in or things that had any use to me in real life, so after a work experience placement working for my local council contractor, accompanying various carpenters, plumbers and decorators, I decided I wanted to become an electrician.
I was offered an apprenticeship role with the contractors once I had left school, which would last for the 3 years. I was told I could smash it out in a year and half, and I was determined to get it done as quickly as possible, as the work wasn't too strenuous and the money was phenomenal for such a young lad with no responsibilities.
After a year of once a week college and doing minor rewires and lighting faults in empty properties, the site manager thought enough of my work to have me doing basic tasks without my mentor. He gave me a small van and a PDA and I was finally given free reign on my day.
Now no disrespect but the office workers who get all the faults from tenants are idiots. They would receive a call from a little old lady who said that her lights aren't working, would assume that there is some major error with the electrics, assign the job four hours, and it would turn out to be a blown light bulb. I had no problem with this, as this meant I could get the job done in ten minutes and spend three hours at home or in the gym.
So one morning when I synced my PDA and saw that I had a job to fix a broken circuit in a tenants kitchen, I automatically assumed that her kettle had a surge and tripped the fuse, id replace it and I would be gone in 15, off to the gym for a few sets and a run, and admire the sweet ass of a mid twenties personal trainer who I couldn't take my eyes off every time I stepped on the treadmill. Well, I was half right.
I pulled up to the address on my PDA and parked up. Just a normal council terraced property with a fence that had seen better days, but the garden was kempt enough, the odd weed sprouting up and a semi deflated football wedged awkwardly between a fence post and some guttering, typical stuff for the sort of properties that we worked in.
Grabbing a few fuses and my basic toolkit I briskly made my way up the path and knocked on the front door. It doesn't matter how many times I do it, the imminent barking of a huge dog and the sound of its claws scraping the other side of the door always startles me. I don't know whether it was the incident I had when I was kid was the main crux of it, but I've just never been that comfortable around dogs. I could hear a woman shooing away the dog as she approached the door, her silhouette moving in and out of view through the stained glass of the front door as she approached it.
She opened the door, and I was met with every teenager’s wet dream fantasy. A woman of around about 30, with long brunette hair, straighter than a die, wearing a tight boob tube top which flaunted her heavenly breasts, and jeans that looked like she had been poured into them, accenting the curve of her hips, which gave away the fact that she would have a plump ass, which has always been the feature which does it for me on a woman.
'Aren't you a little young to be fixing my electrics?'
Her un-amused tone suddenly reminded me that I had a job to do.
'They let me take care of these sort of things miss, I'll have your kitchen working up again, no problem.'
She looked me up and down, taking in my slender body, which must have been pretty well covered. These work outfits aren't that flattering. They never give you the correct size polo tops and the slacks go through hell on a daily basis, so looking your best is hardly something possible. I always made the effort though, making sure my hair was styled and my stubble was noticeable but controlled. She kept me at the door long enough for me to start feeling uncomfortable at her checking me over. I started to feel my cock twitch as I couldn't help but glance at her cleavage, and imagine what it would look like devouring my dick.
She eventually let me in and asked if I wanted a drink whilst the fridge kept some of its cold while the power was off. I politely refused and made my way quickly to the fuse board. My dick had become rock hard through my slacks. They were baggy around the legs but tight as a vice round my crotch, which would have made everything visible. The sight of her curvaceous ass as she led me into her home made me start to perspire. I couldn't believe my luck. I'm normally in an empty property or one occupied by someone’s grandma, not some hot chick who was going to make me cum in my boxers just looking at her tight arse through skin tight jeans.
After taking a few moments to collect myself, I killed the power to the property and made my way into the kitchen to begin testing the circuit for any breaks. She was over at one counter and was making a sandwich. I unscrewed a socket on the wall and began testing.
'I know it’s not your job, but do you mind unscrewing this for me?'
Damn it.
I turned around and was greeted by a view of a jar of Branston pickle, her gorgeous face and her two magnificent tits. I was already sweating and finding it difficult to find my words, so I just nodded and smiled, and took the jar from her.
As embarrassing as it was, I was struggling to get the thing open. My hands were a shaking mess and half my concentration was on trying not to get aroused again, so when I dropped the jar and it shattered on the floor, it was almost a relief for me to get her away from me.
'I'm so sorry! It’s just so hot in here; I’m sweating like Gary Glitter in a playground!'
I was relieved that my crude sense of humour made her giggle, and took the sting out of the fact I just chucked pickle all over her kitchen.
'Just stay still gorgeous and ill collect the glass, wouldn't want anybody cutting themselves'
Did she just call me gorgeous? This was the last thing on my mind, as she crouched down with a dustpan and brush and began to sweep up the shards of glass, her head directly in line with my throbbing cock, pinning me back against the work surface.