Daddy's workers

My dad owns a mechanic shop where most of the employees are men his age, at least 47. Every afternoon, I bring them food and I've noticed how they all look at me with different expressions, devouring me with their eyes. I confess that sometimes I like to play with them, to heat them up in a way I know will drive them crazy, because it's fun. I've always liked to dress in plunging necklines and short shorts, and I've never minded the stares. When I go to the shop, I dress like this on purpose just to see their reactions—and the customers' too. It's hilarious how guys much older than me drool, and some even message me offering to hang out or just "talk." It's a fucking power trip.