Three Builders and a Slut Pt. 01

I heard the builders arrive a few minutes before nine, just as my downstairs neighbor Adam told me they would. I pulled out one earpod to listen to them enter. Adam and I lived in a duplex with one shared hallway. He had the bottom floor, and I had the top. I could hear the builders struggling with the keys at Adam's door. From their conversation, it sounded like there were three or four men. I'd let Adam give them a key to my apartment at the top of the stairs too so they could use my bathroom. They'd be demolishing Adam's bathroom today to extend his living room and later rebuilding it with a new extension.

When Adam, who was also my landlord, offered half rent in exchange for bathroom access over a month, I'd happily accepted. I worked from home anyway so I could keep my apartment secure and I figured I'd hardly notice the builders come and go.

Though I had a desk with extra monitors set up in my guest room, I was usually lazy and worked on my laptop in bed. Today was no exception, although I had showered and dressed knowing I might have visitors. I wore a simple t-shirt and cotton skirt that came down to my mid thigh. I wasn't trying to impress anyone.

The thuds downstairs from the demolition kept distracting me from work and made me restless. I rolled onto my stomach, braced myself up on my elbows and carried on working. I was halfway through an email when I heard footsteps on the stairs and then keys in my door. I was about to earn my half rent.

I didn't want to set a precedent of talking to the builders since they'd be here for over a month. I knew if they were friendly I'd feel obligated to make them a coffee or tea every morning. So I stayed where I was, laying on the bed working. The door to my bedroom was open if they were especially keen on saying hello.

By the footsteps, it was only one of them. My back was to my door, but I heard him pass my bedroom, reach the bathroom and turn on the combined light and exhaust fan. When he finished, I listened to him turn off the light and fan. I appreciated that he was considerate. But when he walked back, I could hear him stop at the entrance to my bedroom. I braced myself for his hello, ready to be polite. I resigned myself to making four or five cups of coffee tomorrow morning.

But he didn't talk. He just stood there. I continued typing my email, not turning around, waiting for him to start the small talk. Then after a minute, without saying a word, he started walking again and I heard my apartment door close and the key turn.

It was weird, but I figured he realized I didn't want to be interrupted and decided to leave instead of making small talk. I kept working.

But only ten minutes later, I heard the key again. I pretended to be working, but I listened carefully to the footsteps. This time, they -- I didn't know if it was the same guy as earlier or someone else -- stopped at my door for ten/fifteen seconds before reaching the bathroom. Eventually they moved on to the bathroom. This one left the exhaust fan and light on so I had to assume it was a different, less considerate guy. He stopped at my door again on the way out before leaving.

What the hell? This was getting really weird now. Maybe I should've just introduced myself and been friendly from the start. I was considering the merits of going down and biting the bullet now when the key turned in my door for the third time.

I waited, listening, wondering if the same thing would happen again. Sure enough, on the way to the bathroom, the third guy stopped at my door. He stayed longer than the other two, making the hairs on my neck stand-up in suspense. I realized, suddenly, they all must be staring at something in my room. Was it me? Could they see up my skirt?

As soon as he moved on to the bathroom, I craned my neck around to check how I looked from behind. I had to hold back a gasp. My modest cotton skirt had flipped up, displaying my entire ass. It must have twisted up when I turned onto my stomach. Worse, I was wearing a thong today because I hadn't done my laundry in a while. It looked like I was displaying myself on purpose. Oh my god. The builders must have thought I wanted them to see me like this. No wonder, they all visited one after the other -- the first guy probably told the others to check out the flasher upstairs.

I was mortified. But also, something was stirring hot and tense below my stomach. I was turned on. These guys had a key to my home for a month and they probably thought I was some kind of slut. I didn't mean to think them but fantasies of them all in my apartment at once came to my mind unbidden, spurring my arousal on.

I heard the toilet flush and fell back into reality. This guy would be passing again. I quickly turned and sat up in bed, flattening my skirt. But wait, this was worse: now I was facing the door and would have to face this man after flashing him. Without thinking, I pulled my knees up high and rested my laptop on them to cover my face. I realized, just as the man got to my entrance, that this position was even worse. With my knees up, my skirt splayed around me on the bed, and he'd still have a view of my arse. Only now, if I widened my legs even an inch, he'd see the front of my underwear too. I clenched my knees together, but I could feel myself getting wet. I wanted to open my legs for him. For this stranger I couldn't even see with my red face hidden behind my laptop.

Casually, as if it was just my muscles relaxing, I let my knees fall away from each other a few inches. I pretended to keep working but I was typing nonsense into my laptop, high on the thought of this stranger staring at my underwear. It was so irresponsible of me. Inevitably I would come face to face with this man this month, and I was letting him see me in my underwear before even having a conversation.

Suddenly he spoke. Just one word in a clear, firm voice. An order: "Wider."

I exhaled as a shiver of arousal ran through me from the back of my neck all the way down to my core. I obeyed, slowly opening my legs until they were obscenely wide and my lower body was pulsing in excitement. What was I doing? I didn't understand but I couldn't stop. This was mortifying but exhilarating.

I flinched at the artificial sound of a shutter -- he had taken a photo of me. I should've snapped my legs shut in protest at the violation but I didn't. I held them wide for him. I think I would've done anything he asked.

"Good girl," he whispered. Then he left.

I listened to the key turn, locking me inside my apartment, and all sense came flooding back to me. What was I doing? I ran to my bedroom door, closed it, and sunk down to the floor with my back against it.

"What is wrong with you?" I whispered to myself, but at the same time I couldn't help the hand that fell between my legs. I needed to feel more. Fuck, my underwear were soaked through.

Wait.

I opened my legs wide and flipped up my skirt, looking down at myself. There was an obvious wet patch on the front of my white thong. And one of the builders downstairs had a photo of it.

I hid in my bedroom for the rest of the first day, and abandoned work to get myself off over and over again. The builders came up a couple more times, probably hoping to see more. I silently wished they'd take the initiative to open my door. If they did, they'd see me naked, spread out on my bed, furiously fucking myself with my fingers, then my dildo, then my fingers again. But none of them ever did.

Though I didn't have the courage to approach any of them, I was hooked after my first exposure and wanted them to see me again. I needed a way to expose more but make it look accidental. I decided on a potentially risky plan for day two and fantasized about it all night.

When I heard the builders arrive in the morning, I immediately felt my body tense in anticipation. I stripped completely and waited by the door. It was half an hour before I heard footsteps outside Adam's hallway. They'd be coming up my stairs soon. I sprung into action.

I ran into the bathroom and quickly turned the hot water of the shower on, closing the glass door behind me. When the water burned my skin, I quickly added a balance of cold and wet my hair fully. I needed it to look like I'd already been showering by coincidence. I'd left the bathroom door open wide so when whichever builder came to use the bathroom, they'd see the outline of my body immediately through the fogged up glass.

But that wasn't my entire plan. I was desperate to show them more. One hand slipped between my legs just as I saw a shadow arrive at the door in my peripheral vision. He stopped at the entrance as I'd hoped he would, just watching. I brought a hand up to my chest and hoped he could see me pinching my tits for him, all the while driving my other fingers into my pussy.

I watched his shadow as I got off, turned on by his presence. I noticed a hand fiddling in his pants and I imagined him touching himself, but I realized he was just pulling something from his pocket. Was this the guy who took a photo of me yesterday? Would he do it again? I leant back against one side of the shower and arched my back, hoping to show off my figure through the fog. But although it did look like he was holding a phone, he didn't lift his hand up to take a photo. Disappointing, but it didn't stop me from showing off.

As I touched myself, I let myself react instinctively, moaning loudly at each deeper stroke so he could hear me clearly. I fantasized about what would happen if I opened the shower door and beckoned him in to finish the job.

Suddenly another tall shadow appeared behind the first man. Then a third. There were three men watching me touch myself in the shower. The first man must've texted them. I imagined what he told them.

Come upstairs now. The slut is putting on a show for us.

I tried to give them as much of a show as possible through the fogged glass. I even lowered the heat, hoping the fog might lessen to give them a clearer view of my body but it didn't. Reckless, I smashed my tits into the door, and rubbed them up and down against the cold glass as I humped my own hand. I was being so obvious, but that only made me more aroused. I wanted these three men I had never seen to know I was a slut.

I came loudly, and rested against the side of the shower panting as my sanity returned. Heat flooded my face as I realized the embarrassment of what I'd just done. I quickly cleaned myself properly in the water, keeping as far away as possible from the glass door that faced the three men. When I finished, I eyed the entrance of the bathroom through the fog. The shadows had gone.

I opened the door a crack to grab a towel and dried myself within the shower before wrapping it tightly around me and exiting. In my haste to put on a show, I hadn't brought any clothes into the bathroom with me. I listened intently and found my apartment quiet. I'd return to my bedroom, close the door, and hide for the remainder of the day again.

But as I exited the bathroom and turned the corner I ran straight into a man and dropped my towel. I froze, staring up at this man a foot taller than me with intense dark eyes and the perfect amount of stubble across his face. He was wearing a simple white shirt but it was tight at his shoulders, showing off large biceps.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He smiled at me. "No, it was my fault." I recognised his voice -- he was the one who took a photo of me yesterday. "Bad timing." His eyes ran down my body, reminding me I was completely naked.

I started to lean down to pick up my towel but he immediately pulled me back up by my wrists. "Let me," he said.

He let go and knelt to the ground. As he picked up the towel, he looked up, and I realized his face was level with my pussy. "Should we avoid visiting in the morning?" He asked, staying low. I could feel the soft heat of his breath inside me.

"What?" I squeaked.

His eyes drifted down to stare directly at my pussy. "For your privacy."

"Oh." I exhaled a shaky breath. I was so turned on. "No, come by whenever you want."

He finally stood up and returned my towel. "Keep your door open for me," he said, then turned away. He wasn't even pretending to be up here to use the bathroom anymore.

I wrapped the towel back tightly around me. "But you have a key," I pointed out.

He chuckled and looked over his shoulder as he exited the apartment. "Your bedroom door, sweetie."

I ran to my bedroom, cheeks flushing. I went to close the door as I had originally intended, but I couldn't help but stop myself before it latched. I didn't know this man's name but I wanted to obey him again. I needed to obey him. I opened the door wide.

After the show this morning, I knew each builder would be back to "use the bathroom" at some point. But that didn't mean I needed to give them a show. After my encounter with the last guy, I was overwhelmed. I needed to slow things down a bit. I'd obey by keeping my door open but I'd dress and work fully clothed in bed, in pants not a skirt. That would send a message that I was only up for fun on my own terms, and I was capable of being someone other than the complete slut I'd acted like so far.

But first, while I was still naked, another quick orgasm couldn't hurt. I dropped my towel and fished out my favorite pillow from under the bed. I climbed onto the bed face down, and wedged the pillow between my legs before rocking back and forth. I loved masturbating like this, imagining I was riding someone. I humped the pillow hard and fast, wanting to get the orgasm over quick. I was listening carefully to the sounds outside my apartment, ready to dive under the covers if anyone entered. But I was also worried I might decide to stay exposed as well. That's what I fantasized about as I continued. The three men standing at the entrance to my bedroom and watching me as I humped myself on a pillow. Fuck, it would be humiliating. But I wanted it so bad.

I moaned loudly through my orgasm, hoping they could hear me downstairs. Then, I collapsed boneless into the bed, resting my head to one side. After this and the shower, I was exhausted. And satisfied. I'd get up and dress in a second as planned but for now, I let myself relax into the bed, folding one knee up. The room was thick with the smell of sex and I was drifting...

I woke up in darkness. I snapped up, eyes blinking and adjusting to the lack of the light. I was alone in my bedroom, my door still wide open. And I was still naked. The builders must be long gone by now...and there's no doubt they would have come by my room in the afternoon while I was sleeping. I imagined the view they'd have found with me naked face down in bed, one knee cocked up to the side...Fuck. I was supposed to slow things down.

I turned on my bedside lamp and sat up, trying to think clearly. I noticed a torn piece of paper sitting by a glass of water on my bedside table. Neither were there this morning. I snatched up the paper. It only had two words on it in a messy cursive scrawl: Good girl.