by Toni Mozzie
She arrived in front of the typical glass tower office building at 6:30. She had a half hour to spare.
When she entered the lobby, she looked at the concierge, expecting to be stopped, as it was after usual business hours, but he just nodded to her and smiled as she began to walk past him. Since she could enter freely, she stopped to ask for the concierge’s help.
He stood up and smiled invitingly at her.
“I’m looking for Jason,” she said, smiling back.
“You mean the janitor? Sorry custodian, as he likes to be called,” the guard said, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m not his keeper.”
“So he could be anywhere?”
“Not anywhere. He cleans the toilets. Why’s it only the dumbasses who clean the shitters? Girls are never interested in the fucking janitor, so I’m surprised you’re asking about him because you’re pretty hot. Usually, the girls are prancing over to me. Girls love a man in uniform, and what uniformed man is more accessible than a security guard?”
“So he could be in any of the restrooms on any floor?”
“Yeah, the plumbing’s endless in this tower. But if you’re actually going to go looking for him, here’s a tip, he works his way from top to bottom.”
“Thanks.”
Ginny took the elevator to the midway floor of the office tower, the 33rd. If he was leaving at seven, he’d have to be at least half way done by now. She didn’t know how fast he worked though. Maybe he was near the bottom floor.
She quickly found the restrooms to be near the elevators. They were empty and smelled freshly cleaned. She jumped back into the elevator and went to the 20th floor. The restrooms had also been just cleaned. Back in the elevator, she went to the 8th floor. Freshly cleaned. She went to the forth floor and got out. She first checked the men’s room. It smelled fresh and clean. Then she went to the ladies’ room. The room had just been cleaned as well, but her heart sank. A woman dressed in a dress suit was applying make up. She turned to Ginny and stared. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m a temp.” It was the first thing that came into her head, even though she was wearing jeans and didn’t look like she belonged in an office building.
The woman frowned at her.
“I mean for the cleaning company. I’m looking for my colleague. I’m here to help pack up for the evening.”
The woman smiled and licked her lips. “I didn’t know women worked for your company.”
Ginny blushed. She knew what ‘work’ this woman was referring to.
“Well, sorry to bother you.” Ginny didn’t want to look at the woman who’d most likely just experienced her janitor.
She took the stairs down to the third floor. He wasn’t there. Then to the second. She prayed he wasn’t with another woman. She needed him. If he was with another woman, she feared she was capable of tearing him off the slut and shoving his face into her pussy.
She came barreling into the hall and saw his cart blocking the men’s restroom door. Her heart raced. Could he be in there sucking a cock? She wasn’t sure how she felt about this. The image of her helping him suck a cock flashed before her mind. She knew that if she could see it vividly in her mind, she was capable of doing it. It was, after all, her fantasy to be ravished and ravaged by a stranger or strangers, and the reason her ex-boyfriend broke up with her a few months ago.
He was alone. He turned to her as she entered. “Sorry, Ma’am, but the restrooms are closed at the moment. Besides, this is the men’s room.”
She was relieved to see him, and his jet-black hair and dark eyes that looked like inky shadows under his eyelids. He looked more handsome, when she was sober, though he looked like he was in his mid-twenties rather than late twenties as she’d originally thought. He wore a similar tight-fitting grey T-shirt as last time that showed he worked out; his arms were muscular, solid and refined; his chest defined, bulky with muscle and broad shoulders that made her feel safe.
“Jason,” she said. “Don’t you remember me?”
He smiled at her and winked. “Of course, I remember you. I will never forget you. You’re elegant dark hair, reminds me of Cleopatra, and your soft milky skin—when I feel your skin, it feels like I’m submersed in a softness.”
Ginny stared, her pussy was wet again. She couldn’t explain why he had such a hold on her. Sure, he could eat pussy, but it was more than that. He awakened something inside her that wanted to be consumed.
She unbuttoned her jeans and looked at him with begging eyes, her lips parted, as her breathing grew shallow, and her pulse began pounding her body.
Chapter Six
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Don’t you want me?”
He swallowed. “Only if you follow my instructions.”
“I can do anything you want.”
Jason laughed. “I could make you eat those words some day.”
Ginny waited, her body tingling with anticipation.
“Remove your jeans.”
She slipped her shoes off and wiggled out of her jeans.
“Drop them to the floor.”
She did.
“Now remove your top and bra.”
She did. She was wearing only her panties, hot and wet, she feared with Lewis’s spit.
“Lean your butt against the sink counter and lift one leg up. Rub your pussy through your panties.”
She obeyed even though her pussy was tender from the treatment it had received from Lewis. Through her panties, she rubbed the opening to her pussy, avoiding her clit, the panties rubbing against it was enough to make her knees weak.
“Okay, now remove your panties, slowly.”
She slid her panties down her legs to reveal her naked shaved slit. Her pussy lips and clit quivered a lighter shade of red.
“Spread your pussy lips,” he whispered.
She took two fingers and separated her pussy lips, to reveal the sweet soft pink flesh that beckoned him to her.
“Do you want to put a finger inside yourself?” he asked
She responded by gently slipping a finger into her wet opening, her finger slid in without resistance, her pussy clutching it.
“Turn around,” he said.
She quickly did as he asked. She stared into the mirror and watched him standing over her, stroking her back and ass before he knelt down, disappearing behind her ass. She felt his tongue explore her asshole, but nothing as dramatic as Lewis had made a point to do.
She arched her back so her ass would rise higher. His hands gripped her thighs, keeping her legs pressed together. She felt his tongue explore her labia and pussy flaps, his tongue forcing its way inside her, firing thrills of warm pleasure up her spine, the muscles in her legs grew weak, and her knees melted.
His tongue sank into her moist pussy, as if it were seeking her out and not eating her out. His tongue squirming inside her turned her flesh to jelly and he had her trapped, memorized.
Jason turned her back around to face him. “Your pussy is demanding. I like that.”
He rubbed her fat, fleshy labia, sopping wet with salvia.
“Your pussy feels so tender, so raw, like it burns with my touch. I can feel your heat. You are pretty fucking horny.”
Ginny moaned. A swelling pleasure washed over her, taking her away with it, out to the depths of blissful surrender.
“Your flavor is stronger than last time,” he murmured, as she felt his chin graze her clit. She let his voice flow through her mind like music, without really understanding but feeling there was something to understand, something emotional to grapple onto. His voice did that. “Your pussy has suffered, since our last encounter,” he added.
This got her attention. What did he mean? Did Lewis call him while she was in the cab? She was certain the prick would have no problem doing this for no reason other than for his own amusement—to torment her and perhaps even his friend. Not that she deserved Jason, but she wanted to deserve him.
Jason’s tongue returned to her clit, playing with it, licking it, twirling his tongue around it, flicking it with his tongue as her clit swelled with a throbbing that coursed into her. Then he took her clit with its hood into his mouth and slathered her flesh in his salvia, before pulling her clit into his mouth, holding it, sucking it, and then, without warning, releasing it.
She gasped.
He did this until she was begging for his finger or even his cock. Why didn’t he fuck her? She would have loved his cock inside her. She would have loved his cock in her mouth, but like one transfixed by an electrical surge of energy, she was unable to interrupt him.
Then she felt tingling sparkles light up her pussy as his stubbled chin scrubbed the folds of her pussy lips, stopping over her clit. When he nudged his chin back and forth, his saliva lubricating his chin, made it feel like a sponge was rubbing over her.
She grabbed hold of his hair and guided his movements, when her body suddenly froze as the pleasure spilled all over her, her skin erupting in goose bumps and flushed red. She came so hard that she felt a burning in her clit. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant.
Her pussy had gotten her into trouble with Lewis.
It needed to be punished.
Chapter Seven
He soothed her pussy by gently blowing on it and lightly stroking her labia and inner thighs as she slowly returned to earth, to the bathroom and the uncomfortable sensation of being on the toilet seat.
She stroked his hair and studied his eyes for some sign that this would happen again. She smiled awkwardly.
“Before coming to me this evening, did Lewis eat your pussy?”
Ginny’s smile vanished. “What? Why would you even ask that?” Ginny’s eyes shifted.
So that asshole did say something. Figures, they are all best buds, dicks before chicks and all that bullshit.
“Because you have a bite mark above your clit. It’s his trademark.”
Ginny’s face shaded dark red. “I was scared he wouldn’t tell me where to find you. I didn’t come, though.” It was a weak thing to say, and she realized it as soon as she’d said it and wished she hadn’t.
He didn’t say anything.
“Are you okay with it?” she managed after a couple seconds, which she spent trying to calm her pounding heart.
“Actually, I’m not.”
Ginny stared, her throat constricting. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I don’t like sharing my lady just how I don’t like sharing my food. Would you let someone eat off your plate or sip soup from your bowl?”
“But the fucking asshole used a different metaphor. He said that he and his buds always shared their snacks during Super Bowl or something like that.”
“Oh, snacks, sure, and so I guess we’ll leave it at that then.”
Ginny’s insides collapsed; she couldn’t move. So that was it? She was a snack? It was obviously humiliating but hauntingly arousing. “But didn’t you…”
“Look, we can still meet up or better yet chat online. It will be more convenient that way because we can always catch each other online. Plus, you should meet some of my other friends, but we’ll tell them that our relationship is a ‘friends only’ one.”
Ginny couldn’t believe it. Were they all playing with her? “If you knew he’d already gone down on me, then why did you if you find it so worthy of dumping me?”
Jason chuckled and got up from his knees. “First of all, I’m not dumping you. There is nowhere from which to dump you, meaning we were never going out to begin with. Secondly, you have taste. I love it, but it needs to be mine. Lewis is an asshole, I agree. I could even, mind you faintly, taste the Doritos Cool Ranch he loves to eat all the time. I guess you didn’t have time to shower before coming to me after coming with him?”
Ginny stared at him in horror. She knew he was right: she’d been a reckless shit, but she couldn’t process that at the moment and needed a scapegoat, no matter how pathetic it sounded. “You should have fucking said something to me, then,” she said, swatting him in the leg, tears coming to her eyes.
“Whoa, calm down, sweetheart. It’s okay. You couldn’t have known, and you were horny, and Lewis is a nice looking guy with those tender virgin lips we love giving him shit about. I’m not blaming you for anything you did, and now that he’s bitten you, you are, like it or not, under his spell.”
Ginny stared into his eyes for a moment before breaking out in laughter. She was laughing so hard, tears kept coming to her eyes. “Who the fuck do you guys think you are? I mean, you think your tongues were made out of Elvis’s throat, Sinatra’s eyeballs and Neil Diamond’s nose for Christ sake!”
Jason tittered; it sounded hollow but was long enough for her to realize how silly she’d just sounded.
“Look, you’ll see everything has a way of working itself out. Trust me, and I’m honored you allowed me between your legs. Never think I never loved it.”
BONUS!
My Dirty Janitor
Book Three: Spicy Sweat
By Toni Mozzie
Chapter One
Lily’s gym routine meant at least three times a week, but lately she’d been going every day. Ever since university, she found working out helped her moods whenever she was plummeting into the darker shades of depression—a recycling of shit in her life that she had come to expect and was just now learning to avoid.
Her friends had always been there for her and they knew her moods. As soon as they saw the first signs of dark storm clouds, they pulled her out of her condo and into the fresh air for a little watering where there would be lots of horny guys.
“What you need is a lay, not Pilates,” her best friend, Amber, said.
“Yeah, but damn, girl, you look good,” another friend, Lindsey, added.
Lily smiled. She loved the compliments. But one can’t be happy on compliments alone. Words only go so far—good or bad.
She looked at her happy friends with a curious fascination. When she got depressed, happy people looked hideously disfigured, like in the Soundgarden video “Black Hole Sun” with the painfully hyperbolic smiles that looked nightmarish and threatening.
She’d dated a couple guys over the past year, but they were interested only in themselves. They were spawns of the same nightclub life she’d been obsessed with when she was twenty-one. But at twenty-nine, clubs did nothing for her, and the guys who lurked in the nightclubs no longer impressed her. She was starting to see the dangerous as the stupid.
They hadn’t been interested in Lily and her needs. She bored quickly of their narcissistic conversation and said little. Guys droned on about sports or politics or their last vacation. Some ventured into sex. These conversations mildly interested her, but not once had a man attempted to probe her fantasies.
Instead, they tap-danced around the perimeters of indecency, asking questions like what kind of men she liked, what position she preferred: missionary or doggy. One asked if she liked to dress up. She never had, but the idea aroused her. When she realized that what he meant was dress up in sexy lingerie, she just exhaled. Of course she had dressed in sexy lingerie, a million times. She liked to wear silky, lacy panties as much as the next girl. But she’d never dressed up as Smurfette, and the idea sounded hot.
She had theories as to why she was in a funk. She’d always done what was expected: what her parents expected, what her boyfriends expected, what her company expected. But not what she wanted. She always assumed that what she wanted was what everyone else wanted, and that in order to be liked, she needed to do what others expected.
But what did she want? She knew she could never really answer the question, as her needs and desires shifted like the colors in a kaleidoscope.
She tried smoking weed and that helped with some of the anxiety she experienced whenever she was in front of the mirror wondering where her life was headed and realizing that it wasn’t heading anywhere, and that that moment was all that mattered and there she was wasting it staring in front of a
mirror. But on the plus side, the weed made her horny, making her want to get out and play the field a little, and without a sensual outlet, she felt a percolating frustration building up inside her that might compound her problems.
She was on a collision course with thirty. In the grand scheme of things, it was no big deal, but if she was having issues with this milestone, what could she expect approaching forty or fifty if she did nothing to live life to the fullest now?
She needed to get her shit together. She’d been working in the marketing department of a gigantic IT company for seven years. She made great money and owned her own condo. She had friends who she hung out with, but who basically followed a routine, that she was frightened she might get sucked into, like into a black hole where time would cease to have meaning and every day would feel like it is the same. She could feel herself already getting pulled into that courteous state of settling down, as life grinds to a halt around her. This going through the motions was wearing her down. Unfortunately, she only ever realized she was trapped in its gravitational pull when it was too late to escape by making only minor adjustments. She was at the stage where her life needed a complete overhaul.
If she kept working out, just to feel a little alive for a short time, she would soon lose her soft curves to hard muscle, but working out was the only therapy she had at the moment. Medication wiped out her sex drive, and she was already smoking too much pot.
Maybe what she needed was a vacation, travel around Europe, hit up Italy, the French Riviera and Spain and hunt out one of those perfect Spanish sex studs that she’s seen in the movies. She knew that a couple weeks in Spain would do nothing for her though. Instead of living life, she would be viewing it, caught in all the tourist traps. It was fun, but not quite what she needed. She needed to start again. Hit the reset button. Live in Spain and wake up to a handsome smile, caring eyes, and smooth creamy tanned skin and an inexhaustible cock and insatiable tongue, every morning for the rest of her life.