Working Overtime: Chapter I
Working OvertimePlease note that this is a work in progress, and is only the developing part of this story for Val, the main character. Additionally, please understand that it's a little harder to tell this story from a first person point of view. Thanks for reading, and I'll be sure to work on the next chapter... when I get my coffee... ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ It was 1:19 in the AM. I had already cleaned up for the night, put all the tools away, wiped off the workstation, the like. I was covered head to toe in grease, being the mechanic I am, this was expected, but it had been an especially greasy job, this Piper Cub. Nice plane, good and reliable, but Jesuchristo, if one doesn't take good care of it, it's a bitch to fix. I wiped my paws onto my jumpsuit and, after taking a look out the hangar and making sure I hadn't forgotten anything, I headed towards the shower rooms, making my way out of the hangar through the huge sliding door and onto the tarmac, in a quick stride. Being here alone gave me the jeebies, and I didn't want to be here any longer than I had to.
The air was warm and dry, and a nice breeze had made its way across the field, ruffling my black/brown patch fur and teething through my rather thin green jumpsuit. It made me shiver, but otherwise it was a rather fine night, if a quiet one. Finding nothing else to listen to, with the exception of the occasional plane that taxied by, I listened to the rythmic crunch of my boots on the tarmac, counting each step... 1. 2. 3. 4... all the way to the shower rooms. I had made it to 1,673 when I reached the washroom door, the entrance to a low brick building that had seen better days. The thing about the washrooms was that they weren't divided by gender. In fact, they weren't divided at all. For this reason, I generally avoided the showers. However, with the exception of the ground crew and the air traffic controllers, there was not a soul here tonight... or so I thought. I pushed my way into the squat building, my boots now making soft thuds on the stained carpet. I scanned the rows of lockers and, seeing not a soul in sight, began to undress, starting with my boots. Following were my jumpsuit, underneath that my t-shirt, jeans, and finally my boxers. I picked up my little mountain of clothes and tossed them on a nearby bench, frowning in dismay as they simply fell off of it and onto the floor. Shrugging slightly, I found myself a shower, turned on the tap, and commenced to scrubbing.
By now, it was 1:34 AM, and I had nearly finished my shower. I had let the near scalding water beat on my abdominals, and from there it washed over my slim stomach, over my crotch, and down between my legs. I must have cut an impressive figure around the field, seeing as how I worked out 4 hours, 5 days a week in addition to hefting heavy engines and tools around the hangar all day. This had produced a well muscled, yet modestly slim german shepherd, and I wasn't really one for showing off, driving to work, doing my job, and leaving. Sure, I had my friends and chatted with my buddies on the field when I had the chance, but I didn't linger. Additionally, I never paid too much attention to my female co-workers, chatting with them idly but never really making a connection. However, one girl, a nice redheaded fox, was the one I'd always drooled over (Not literally, of course). Slim, intelligent, playful, she had it all. And she never once glanced in my direction... at least, not when I was looking. All the while I scrubbed the same circle on my abs, over and over again... Jesus Christ, snap out of it and finish up. You're going to fall asleep at this rate!