Replacing a gas tank

Flapping her arm back and forth, Mackenzie whined in frustration as the sleeve flopped about. The slightest movement could make her arm slip out of it, and it was simply too dangerous to keep it hanging while she was working. She couldn't afford to leave a customer waiting either; once she got the second car done, she could go home to change. Looking around for scissors, she tried the ones she kept in her office, but they couldn't cut through the thick fabric. Sighing, she sat down, carefully getting a utility knife, and sawing through the sleeve at her shoulder. Plenty of jumpsuits were worn without sleeves, if movies were to be believed.

Mackenzie did her best to be careful, but working with imprecise tools and having to worry about her skin first made it harder. Cutting through, the sound of the ripping fabric was cut short a few seconds early as a chunk of the shoulder of the suit came off in her hand, the seam on top of her collarbone opening up across, pausing only at the short lapel on her collar. As she looked at the extra materials and string that came off with the sleeve, the left part of her suit flopped forward halfway, bringing a blush to her face as the top and side of her breast and the sheer top of her bra were further exposed, showing her bare collarbone and lack of bra straps. Whining in embarrassment, she gingerly held the piece of fabric in place, suddenly feeling like one wrong move was going to leave her entirely naked.

Sighing, she did her best to ignore it, finding a long tray on wheels and sliding it under the edge of the car. Kneeling, she bent under the edge of the car with a wrench, carefully opening the drain plug and watching as the gasoline trickled down into the pan. Trying to get her mind off her terrible day, she moved her hips back and forth slightly in time with the radio, as the gas finally stopped trickling and she carefully rolled the tray out from under the pan and stood up. However, as she did, she didn't notice the sharp bit of trim twisted off the passenger door of the car, and the slit on her right hip did. As she stood, it caught and she was met with a loud ripping sound. Shocked, she tried to pull away, then realized that was a terrible idea and tried to put her boot back, but steps on the rim of the gas pan. Squealing, the pan flips towards her, soaking her boots in the substance as she stumbles back.

Stamping one boot cutely in frustration, she looks down to survey the damage. She was thankful she wore a belt, as the slit on her right side had split open both upwards and downwards, revealing a line of skin from her knee to her bustline, unbroken but for her sheer pink bikini-cut panties and thin belt. However, she had bigger concerns at the moment. Holding her breath, she bent down and quickly untied the laces to her wet boots, pulling them off and tossing them in front of the fan quickly, leaving her standing on a pair of thick pink socks that matched her underwear in shade. She wasn't happy about likely ruining her socks, but wearing her boots was outright dangerous, and she gingerly looked at the edge of her suit, blushing yet harder at how much of her was now revealed at even the most modest angle. Worse, as she looked down, she realized her zipper had given up; with all the motion, the tag had slipped all the way to the bottom of the track. The front gaped open, revealing the full structure of her bra, the bottom half opaque and barely covering her nipples while the top half was teasingly sheer, a tiny bow between the cups. Down the center of her body, her toned stomach and bellybutton were revealed, all the way past her waist, where a hint of pink waistband and a matching bow poked out of the split. Her laundry backup had left her with one of her most sexy date night lingerie sets as her only option, and she was mortified at the idea of being seen, blushing deep red and biting her lip nervously as she looked down at the partially finished job, and debated whether to continue...