The look on her face, however, was another story. Although not crying, her head kind of moped down and from the vacant depths of staring eyes she looked at me accusingly with a mixture of hatred and shame. I felt low, lower than a snake in the grass at that point. Even the sight of that big, bobbling back end failed to arouse me as she shuffled slowly into the other room. Truly ashamed of what I had done, I flopped into the john.

Feeling greatly relieved after my piss, I went back to work. This was going to be a long one. Machines had broken down all over the place. I knew it was going to take me at least a couple of hours to fix them. And, what with the big boss coming in, Margaret kept popping in on me, asking me if I was finished yet. Her dark green wraparound skirt flounced wildly on her sleek swiveling hips and small, taut ass-muscles every time she ran in there. And I could tell from her erect button nipples poking out from her light green blouse that she was getting excited about the upcoming visit.

A little peeved at her constant interruptions, I told her somewhat curtly that I'd have a lot better chance of getting done in time if she'd leave me alone. A blush formed on her high-riding cheeks that matched her red hair and she immediately began apologizing, saying that she was nervous about Gene coming. I told her that I understood and that I would work extra hard to get it all done for her. I stared at her muscular, tan calves as she walked out and thought, "Hmmmm. She ain't that badly shaped after all; kinda skinny still, but muscular like those iron pumping ladies I saw on

TV, only not as grossly bulked up. And where did that tan come from. It looks pretty hot on a redhead. I wonder if it goes all the way up?". It was like seeing her for the first time.